Pirate Blood
by SparrowLass
Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 12- In which goodbyes are said and Jack and Will set out for the Caribbean
1. Chapter 1

Title: Pirate Blood 

Author: SparrowLass

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. 

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Feedback is to me what rum is to Jack.

The young boy leaned precariously over the sill of the window, staring down in awe at the storm tossed sea. The rain fell from the sky in torrents, an impenetrable gray sheet, broken only by the occasional jagged flash of lightning. The boy's dark hair was plastered wetly to his head and the rain beat a steady tattoo on the floor of the ship's cabin as it came through the open window.

The creak of rusty door hinges sounded as the door to the cabin was pushed open, but the boy paid it no heed, too engrossed in the scene outside his window.

"Jack!" a baritone voice called to him sharply. "Get away from that window this instant!"

The boy turned around, his eyes alight. "But Father, it's so wonderful outside! Look at how high the waves are!"

"That's precisely why you should not be leaning out that window," the man said, striding over and firmly shutting the window despite the protests of his young son.

The boy sulked for a few moments but soon recovered from his disappointment and sat down quite happily to play with his model ships.

"Take that you Spanish dog!" he cried, making mock cannon fire noises and causing the ship flying the Spanish flag to list onto its side.

"The British navy is triumphant! Captain Jack has saved the day once again!"

His father smiled indulgently from his seat in the plush chair on the other side of their small cabin, an open book on his lap.

"Jack," he called to his son, "why don't you come over here and read this Latin text to me. Show me how far you've progressed in your lessons."

"Father," the boy huffed in annoyance, "I can read almost anything. My tutors have all said that I've progressed beyond other boys my age. Can't I go to Mother's cabin next door and play with Robin?"

"Another time," his father said patiently. "Right now I want you to show me your progress."

Giving a sigh of long suffering, the boy carefully placed his ships on their stands and took them over to the desk, looking at them admiringly for a moment before going over to stand by his father.

Fiddling with a shilling he found in his pocket the boy announced suddenly, "I'm going to be the captain of my very own ship when I grow up, the best one ever."

"Jack you know that's not possible," his father said gently. "The Lancasters do not run a line of merchant ships nor would any of us join something as common as the navy. You and Robert are to inherit my estate and business and run those jointly."

"But I don't want to," the boy said plaintively. "I want to be on the high seas, fighting pirates and Spaniards."

His father gave him a stern look. "We've been over this before, son. It's not possible, so you had best accept it and concentrate on your studies. You've a lot to learn before you are ready to accept the responsibilities I carry now."

The boy pouted, but dutifully accepted the book from his father and began to read aloud. It was a history book, and his father had opened it to the section on the Plantagenets. The boy rolled his eyes. His family was very proud of their pedigree. He had heard numerous times the story of how the Lancasters fought against the Yorks in the War of the Roses back in the late half of the 15th century and how their family was a branch of the royal Plantagenets. Not that the Lancasters really had that much political control nowadays, and the boy was actually first cousin to the current head of the House of Lancaster.

The boy forced himself to concentrate on the tediously dull words, but his mind inevitably wandered to daydreams of his beloved ships. As he was fantasizing about a battle between himself and a band of pirates, the ship gave a terrific lurch to starboard, sending many of the unsecured items in the cabin crashing in that direction.

"What the--" the man stood up hurriedly, book forgotten.

The ship groaned as if in mortal pain and the boy's father ran to the cabin door.

"Is it a pirate attack?" the boy asked eagerly.

He followed his father to the doorway, intending to go with him, but the man placed a hand on his offspring's shoulder, halting the lad in his steps.

"Stay here, Jack," his father warned, pushing the boy back into the cabin. "I'm going to go see what is wrong."

The boy waited a few seconds and then crept out of the cabin after his father, climbing up the stairs to the main deck. Outside it was chaos. Sailors ran to and fro, shouting and gesticulating wildly while the ship listed hard to starboard, sending the barrels on deck overboard into the raging sea.

"We've hit the shoals, sir!" one of the sailors near the boy bawled to the captain. "We're takin' in too much water!"

The captain's jaw clenched, loathe to forsake his ship, but he nodded his head in agreement. "Lower the boats! Abandon ship!"

The sailor saluted hurriedly and went to comply with the orders.

In the melee, no one noticed the wide-eyed boy crouched next to a coil of rope. Wincing in sympathy as the ship gave another low groan, the boy darted quickly over to the starboard edge. Leaning over the railing, he whistled in amazement as he saw part of the gaping hole in the side of the ship that was causing all the panic. The white-capped waves pounded the ship unmercifully, driving it hard onto the reef, many of them sweeping across the deck. One such wave came suddenly, catching the boy unawares and sweeping him cleanly over the side.

The boy drew breath to scream for help, but the sea tossed him like a rag doll, filling his mouth with salty water and drowning his voice even more effectively than the shrieking wind. Plunged under the gray depths again and again, the boy's struggles became ever more feeble as the waves dragged him farther and farther away from the ship. Just when it seemed he could stay afloat no longer, Fortune saw fit to send him a small hope in the form of a piece of planking from the foundering ship. The boy clung doggedly to the wood, pressing his cheek to it as the waves and wind buffeted him about, praying to whatever god would listen that he would survive the night. A sudden dip in the water level startled the boy enough for him to raise his head. Looking up, he tightened his grip in terror at the titanic wave that towered above him. Clenching his eyes shut, he waited for death to claim him, and as the wave descended . . .

Jack Sparrow sat up suddenly in his bed breathing hard as if he were still afloat in the storm tossed ocean fighting for his life. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his hand, the captain of the Black Pearl got to his feet, steadying himself with a hand on the wall. Grabbing the bottle of rum on the table near his bed, he popped the top off and took a healthy swig, frowning a little as he thought of his nightmare. Odd. He hadn't dreamed of that day in years. What could possibly have brought it back now?

Deciding he need some fresh air, the pirate opened the door of his cabin and strode on deck, casually flicking his hand to the side to indicate that the person currently at the helm should leave. Jack sighed in contentment as he took his place behind the wheel, running his hands lovingly over the polished wood. This was where he belonged, behind the wheel of his ship with a stiff breeze and endless horizons stretching before him.

Currently it was that gray time of morning, hovering between night and dawn. The stars were dwindling in the east, the sky fading from black to a light gray. The full moon hung low in the west, a shining pearl in an ebony sea, its light bright enough to cast shadows on the ship's deck. Jack took a deep breath of the crisp air, loving this time when everything seemed so still and quiet. An illusion of peace that was broken as soon as the sun showed her face, bringing another day of fighting, pillaging, and general mayhem. And Jack wouldn't have it any other way.

Within a half-hour, the sun had breached the horizon, its early morning intensity promising another sweltering Caribbean day. Grinning, Jack surveyed his domain, his long, elegant fingers tapping out a rhythm on the wheel. As the crew slowly began to emerge from below-decks, Jack bellowed orders at them, befitting his status as captain of the Pearl.

"Move it you lazy dogs! Full sail! We have a good nor'easter comin' through and I want it put to good use! Faster you pugnacious purloiners!"

At that last one, many of the crew stared at Jack, wondering what in the hells he was talking about, but Jack had his devil-may-care grin firmly in place, his hands gesturing grandly to illustrate his words, and the crew just shrugged. That was their captain. Daft as a loon, but a brilliant pirate nonetheless.

Having set the crew to their tasks, Jack stroked his goatee with his fingers, contemplating what course he should set. He knew they were running low on supplies and the crew hadn't had shore leave in a while, so perhaps today would be a good time to weigh anchor at one of the islands. Maybe one near Port Royal, that way he could go check up on young William. At that thought, Jack shook his head in self-deprecation. He couldn't believe he was worried about the lad's well being. As a rule, pirates generally didn't form attachments to anything outside of their ship. It was too bothersome and most likely to get you killed. But then again, Jack had never played by the rules, and the earnestness and naivete of the lad brought out his protective instincts. He shrugged. Ah well, to Port Royal it is then.

Robert Lancaster stood at the prow of the merchant ship, hands clasped behind his back as he took in his first view of Port Royal. My God it had been a long time. He hadn't been to the Caribbean since he was seventeen, when his parents had decided to move back to England. The tropical Caribbean climate had not agreed with his mother and his father hadn't been too fond of it either, so Mr. Lancaster had tied up a few loose ends in his business and the family had booked passage on a ship to England. His younger brother had been devastated that they were leaving; he could barely remember England and the Caribbean was the only place he thought of as home. Personally, Robert agreed with his parents, but he'd felt sorry for his little brother and bought the boy a toy ship from one of the merchants on the island as a memento.

In fact, his younger brother was the reason Robert had made the voyage back to the British colony. For twenty-four years, the family had believe their youngest to be dead, drowned in a storm, but last week Robert had stumbled upon something that gave him hope his brother lived. He had gone down to Liverpool to visit a friend and while he was there had stopped by the docks to place an order with one of the merchants. When he had signed his name at the bottom of the document, the merchant had noticed and commented on it.

"Lancaster, eh? I knew a Lancaster once. Served with him on the _Diarmid_."

Robert frowned. "I do not believe anyone from our family is a merchant sailor."

The man looked furtive and leaned closer to Robert. "Well yeh see, it wasn't exactly a merchant ship. It was a pirate ship. I was only on it for a couple years before I managed to acquire enough money to leave the pirate life. My second year on there we picked up a lad from the sea. Name was Jack Lancaster. Captain let 'im stay on as a cabin boy and he took to the pirate's life like the Irish take t' whiskey."

Robert's heart had started pounding and his mouth went dry at the merchant's words. Licking his lips nervously, he said, "Do you remember how long ago this happened?"

The merchant looked up contemplatively. "Hmm, let me see. I think it was about twenty years ago."

"Twenty-_four_ years ago," Robert whispered slowly.

He looked up sharply. "Do you know where Jack Lancaster is now?"

"Of course," the merchant said in surprise. "They've been runnin' stories 'bout 'im in the papers. He goes by Jack Sparrow now, captain of the _Black Pearl_."

Robert had thanked the man profusely for his help and given him a handsome sum of money that the bewildered merchant accepted with gratitude. As soon as he could, he had bought a copy of the _London Times_ and flipped through it, looking for news of Jack Sparrow. He found it toward the back, the latest installment it seemed, of a running story on the pirate.

Robert knew the newspapers always periodically ran articles on the escapades of the pirates of the Caribbean for the entertainment of the populace, but he had only glanced at them before. Thoroughly reading the article, he had learned of the _Black Pearl_ and the daring exploits of her captain, Jack Sparrow. This could be him! Robert had thought excitedly. The time frame is right and the circumstances fit! He had excitedly broached the subject of Jack's possible survival with his father, stating that he believed Jack Sparrow was really his brother. But by the time he was finished presenting his findings, the older man was shaking his head.

"Robert, it's just not possible. The chances of this pirate being your brother are extremely small, and you are basing your hope on the information of a pirate turned merchant. No, Jack is dead. He has been for twenty-four years. We must let the dead rest in peace."

Robert's mouth had settled into a stubborn line and he had refused to listen to his father. No matter how slim the chance, Robert was going to investigate it. That was how he had ended up aboard a merchant ship bound for the Caribbean.

As soon as the ship had been secured at the port, Robert made his way to the fort and asked to be taken directly to the commanding officer. Within a few minutes, Robert was ushered into the office of Commodore Norrington.

"Ah, come in Mr. Lancaster," the commodore invited, gesturing Robert to sit in one of the cushioned chairs in front of his desk.

Robert took the offered chair, looking appraisingly around the spacious room. Several maps hung on one of the walls and on another was an extensive sword collection. A few landscape paintings softened the military air of the office and the huge window behind the commodore's desk gave a spectacular view of the harbor.

"Tea?" the commodore offered.

"Yes, thank you," Robert said, taking the white china cup the commodore handed him.

"I hope your voyage was pleasant?" the commodore asked courteously.

"Yes it was beautiful," Robert replied, feeling the urge to drum his fingers impatiently on the arm of his chair.

Normally he didn't mind the formalities, but he was eager to begin his search for his brother. Despite their age difference he had been close to Jack, and his brother's apparent death had been very bitter for him.

"May I ask what brings you to Port Royal, Mr. Lancaster?" the commodore finally inquired after a few more inanities.

Robert leaned forward eagerly. "What can you tell me about the pirate Jack Sparrow?"

The Commodore's lip curled. "Ah, yes, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow. I am acquainted with him, unfortunately. More than a year ago I allowed him to escape, a decision I now regret immensely. That man has been a constant thorn in my side."

Robert nodded. "The _London Times_ has been running stories on his exploits. He seems to be quite skilled."

The Commodore's face took on a sour look, his lips pinching into a disapproving line. "So it would seem."

"Do you know anything of his background?" Robert pursued. "Anything of his family, his birthplace?"

The commodore looked bemused at the questions. "Mr. Lancaster, pirates do not have families. They have either killed them or forgotten them. I doubt that vile pirate is any different, and as to his birthplace, I am sure he was born in a brothel to some Tortugan whore."

Robert scowled at that, fighting the urge to comment on the Commodore's own ancestry. Never mind the fact that what the Commodore had said was probably true of many pirates, Robert was not going to have his brother's ancestry besmirched. With that thought, Robert realized he had already begun to think of the pirate as his brother. You do realize that if he turns out not to be, you are going to be severely disappointed, one part of Robert's mind told him. I don't care, Robert growled. I have thought him dead for twenty-four years. Nothing can be worse than that.

"Why exactly are you so interested in Sparrow?" the Commodore asked, staring in puzzlement at Robert.

"Personal reasons," Robert said, smoothing his face back to neutrality.

The Commodore raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, I see. In that case, I suggest you to talk to William Turner."

"Why?" 

Was this another pirate? Robert wondered.

The Commodore steepled his fingers. "The young Master Turner has had dealings with the pirate, and I believe even feels a certain friendship for the criminal, don't ask me how. He will most likely know more than anyone else."

"Where do I find him?" Robert asked, already half-risen from his chair.

"In the blacksmith shop of Mr. Brown."

"Thank you," Robert said, standing fully and giving a short bow to the Commodore. "I will take my leave of you now and not disturb you any longer."

Before the Commodore could reply, Robert was out the door, leaving the frowning man behind him. A strange idea was surfacing in the back of the Commodore's mind and it was rather disturbing. Robert Lancaster had looked similar to Jack Sparrow. The Commodore almost immediately dismissed the thought. No, it was impossible.

Robert swiftly made his way to the blacksmith shop of Mr. Brown, pausing only to ask directions. Finding the shop with a hammer and anvil sign hanging above it, Robert pushed open the door and stepped into a dusty, dimly lit room. The clear ringing of hammer and anvil sounded rhythmically through the room and Robert saw a black-haired young man in the middle of the room pounding on a glowing piece of metal with a hammer, sparks flying. The young man apparently noticed him, for he stopped working and straightened up, untying his soot smeared apron as he came over. The young man looked to be somewhere in his twenties, with curly black hair, a sparse goatee and soft, dark brown eyes. He didn't know what it was about the lad, but Robert felt an almost immediate liking for him.

"Can I help you, sir?" the young man asked, a smile on his face.

"If you are William Turner then yes you can," Robert said without preamble.

"I am he," William acknowledged. "What can I do for you?"

Robert moved further into the shop, his hands clasped behind him. "I need information on the pirate, Jack Sparrow."

At the mention of the name, William's eyes narrowed suspiciously and his expression became guarded. "Why are you asking me? What would I know of pirates?"

"Commodore Norrington informed me that you have had dealings with Jack Sparrow," Robert replied, observing William's reactions.

When he heard Norrington's name, William began to subtly edge closer toward a rack that Robert noticed contained a number of swords.

"Who are you?" William demanded. "Do you belong to the military or are you some kind of bounty hunter?"

Robert looked amused. "No, young master, I am neither. As to your first question, I am Robert Lancaster."

William relaxed a little, but he still stood within easy reach of a sword, body tensed in readiness. 

"And what exactly is your interest in Jack Sparrow?" William asked cautiously.

The young blacksmith seemed to be an honest sort of fellow, so Robert decided to tell him the truth.

"I have reason to believe that Jack Sparrow is my brother."

William's expression immediately shifted from suspicious to incredulous. "Your brother? You expect me to believe that?"

The disbelief was not entirely unexpected, so Robert gave William a brief summary of his reasons for believing Jack was his brother and at the end of it, William stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"I suppose it is possible. Jack's never told me anything about his family and I always assumed that . . . well, that he was the son of a prostitute or pirate."

William looked a little embarrassed and Robert laughed at him. "No need to be embarrassed, lad. That's probably true of most pirates."

"Jack's definitely not most pirates, though. He's . . ." William searched for a word, " . . .something. Unique I suppose would be the closest you could come to describing him. You'll have to see him for yourself to see what I mean. Jack defies description."

"So you'll take me to him?" Robert asked in anticipation.

Now it was William's turn to look amused. "I can't take you to him. I wouldn't know where to look. Jack could be anywhere on the seas right now. The only place I can think of where he might go ashore for any length of time would be Tortuga."

"Tortuga, the pirate haven." Robert sighed in frustration. This was going to be a difficult venture.

"If you do decide to go there," William warned, "I advise you not to bring anything of value with you. You will quickly lose it." The young man paused for a moment to survey Robert's clothing. "And try to wear something a little less high class, it makes you too conspicuous. Also if I were you I would ask Norrington to lend me a couple soldiers to come along for protection, out of uniform of course."

Robert nodded judiciously, cataloging the advice in his head for future reference.

"Are you eager to be on your way immediately," William asked hopefully, "or would you like to come to a tavern with me to get a drink? I could tell you a few more things about Jack."

Robert considered it for a moment, but decided he had better begin his search since he had a limited amount of time before his ship left for England.

"Thank you for the offer," Robert said, "but I believe I should begin my journey as I only have three weeks before my ship leaves for England."

William looked slightly disappointed, but smiled and shook hands with Robert.

"I wish you luck on your quest, then. If I ever see Jack I'll tell him you are looking for him."

"Thank you for your help," Robert said warmly, bidding William goodbye before stepping out of the blacksmith shop.

Standing for a moment on the street, he looked out over the bay, arms crossed. Breathing the salty air in deeply, he straightened his coat and began walking purposefully toward the harbor. To Tortuga.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: In which Jack raids a ship, Robert finds what he's been looking for, and Will has a conversation

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Feedback is to me what rum is to Jack.

Many thanks to all of you who reviewed, makes me feel good the whole day!

By the way, anyone seen the August issue of _GQ _?Has a very gorgeous picture of Johnny Depp on the front and nice long article inside.

It had been three weeks since Jack had decided to go to Port Royal, but he still hadn't made it yet. On his way, he had diverted his course slightly to raid a small ship that had, unfortunately, turned out to only be the mail packet. An unexpected bonus was found on board, though, in the form of a shipping timetable for three different merchant companies. Delighted, Jack had gone through the list, marking off which ships he wanted and crossing out those he couldn't be bothered with. The trip to visit Will would have to wait. The timetable presented an opportunity that couldn't be passed up. Jack estimated that after about four weeks the ships would stop following this schedule, when the captain of the mail packet finally made it back to England to inform the companies that a pirate was now in possession of their time-table.

Perched on the main boom, Jack grinned at that thought. It was amazing how useful the ability to read could be. Merchants would just leave things lying around in the open because they thought that none of the lower class would be able to read them. It was child's play for Jack to glance over timetables and shipping manifests when people's heads were turned the other way, helping him to choose the most profitable targets. Not that he did that all the time, though. Surprise and risk were all part of the game and much of the time he sailed randomly through the Caribbean, picking up whatever crossed his path. Like right now.

Jack straightened to his full height, balancing precariously as he strained to see the ship that had appeared on the horizon.

"Throw me my spyglass," he ordered Gibbs who was currently at the helm.

"Aye, sir."

Gibbs rummaged around in the satchel full of items that Jack kept near the helm. Finding the spyglass, he tossed it up the captain, who deftly caught it and then put it to his eye, training the 'glass on the ship.

"Hmm, what have we here?" Jack muttered softly to himself. "A nice fat merchant vessel, aye? Flyin' the Union jack and settlin' a little lower in the water than's normal. Must have a full cargo."

Lowering the spyglass, Jack bellowed his orders. "Hard to port! Hoist the sails, run out the sweeps! Shift fast, lads, we've got a merchant vessel to catch!"

Robert leaned on the railing on the starboard side of the ship, staring morosely off into the horizon, ignoring the light spray that drifted upward as the ship sliced cleanly through the water. Three weeks of searching and what did he have to show for it? Naught but tall tales and rumors of Captain Jack Sparrow and the infamous Black Pearl. Robert ground his teeth in frustration. Everyone had something to say about Sparrow, but no one could tell him where the clever captain actually was. He had tried several of the islands that Sparrow was reputed to have stopped by, but he seemed to always just miss the elusive buccaneer. He had even stayed in the Caribbean a little longer than three weeks to check up on a promising rumor, and in the process, missing his ship for England. After almost a month now, Robert had finally given up and booked passage back to England on another ship. He should just accept that it wasn't meant to be. Disappointment welled up in him, but he quashed it firmly. It had been a long shot anyway and he had been a fool for getting his hopes up.

The one bright spot in the journey was that the other passenger on the ship happened to be William Turner who was also going to England. When Robert had inquired as to the reason for his journey to England, Will had explained that his master, Brown, was sending him for a three week stay in order to learn the latest methods of weapons forgery. Apparently there was a new technique that had been recently developed, and it was being hailed as a wonderful new advancement.

When William asked about Robert's search for Jack, the older man had admitted his failure to locate his brother. William was sympathetic and promised that if he ever saw Jack he would tell the pirate about Robert.

"Although," William said in some annoyance, "I haven't seen the scurvy rascal in a year. He's only stopped by once since our adventure together and I haven't seen him since."

This mention of the adventure piqued Robert's interest. In his search he had constantly heard the story of the cursed Aztec gold and he was curious as to what really happened.

At Robert's request, Will told the whole tale, but at the end of it, Robert was left shaking his head. The whole thing was patently incredible. There was no way such a thing could happen, but Will stubbornly maintained the veracity of his story. 

Now, as he stood staring off at the horizon, Robert wondered if the lad might not be a little sun-touched. Living in this sweltering heat could drive anyone a bit mad. Speaking of . . . Robert flapped the front of his shirt, trying to get some cool air on his heated skin. Sweat rolled down his face and he seriously considered jumping in the ocean just to get cooled off for a few minutes. But no, then the salt would dry on his skin and he would be even more wretched than before. Maybe a hurricane will come up, Robert thought miserably. We'll be in mortal danger but at least we'll be cool.

A sudden commotion at the helm interrupted Robert's musings and caused him to look up questioningly. Before he could ask what the problem was, the sailor manning the helm shouted down to the captain who was standing on the quarterdeck.

"Sir, there's a ship approaching to starboard!"

The captain looked up sharply.

"Nationality?"

"She flies no flag, sir!" A pause. "No, wait, she's run up the Jolly Roger!"

The captain cursed under his breath and jogged quickly up to the helm. Putting the spyglass to his eye, he surveyed the approaching ship. Letting out an impressive string of invective, he lowered the 'glass and quickly gave orders.

"Man the cannons! We can't outrun her with this load, but we'll see if we can damage her enough to make her back off."

"You there! Go to your cabin and stay there until I come get you," the captain called, catching sight of Robert.

Robert tried to protest but was ushered firmly off the deck and into the hold. Pacing up and down in his cabin with nervous energy, Robert peered occasionally out the windows, trying to get a glimpse of what he realized must be a pirate ship. He was no amateur with a sword, but he knew there was no way he and the crew of the merchant ship could hold off an entire pirate crew by themselves. Fingering the pistol at his belt, Robert prayed to Providence to rescue them or send help in the form of a British naval vessel. Otherwise, he had a feeling he was about to join his dead brother.

Jack watched in satisfaction as his crew expertly grappled the other ship. The merchant vessel had put up a bit of a fight and seemed to have some good artillery. But the Pearl had longer range guns and Jack had expertly kept his ship just out of reach of the merchant's guns, darting closer every so often to provoke the other vessel into firing. Finally, the merchant ship had run out of ammunition and tried to make a run for it, but the Black Pearl had quickly caught up. Jack patted the main mast of the ship fondly. Nothing could match his Pearl.

Grabbing a rope, the buccaneer captain swung over to the other ship along with his crew, landing in a half-crouch before straightening up and barely avoiding decapitation from a slashing sword.

"Now that wasn't very nice," Jack said reproachfully to the man who had taken the swing at him.

Unsheathing his own sword, Jack danced quickly forward. Left, right, thrust, parry, ah, there! Within a few moves he had gotten under the man's defenses and run the sailor through. Not pausing over his fallen foe, Jack moved on to the next opponent. The clang of swords, the firing of pistols, the screams and shouts of the mariners, all these sounds swirled around Jack as he moved nimbly across the quarterdeck, searching for the captain. Spotting him by the helm, Jack bared his teeth in a feral grin and leapt up onto the railing to confront the man. 

"Sparrow!" the captain growled, catching sight of the pirate.

Jack gave sigh of long-suffering. "It's _Captain_, Captain Sparrow! How many times do I have to tell people that?"

The captain's reply was to try and run Jack through with a sword, which the pirate evaded by jumping quickly to the side.

Holding his own sword in front of him, Jack circled warily, not letting the captain back him into a corner. The pirate darted in and around the captain's defenses, trying to tease the man into doing something rash. Frustrated with his inability to land a hit on the buccaneer, the merchant captain made the mistake of trying to swing his sword at Jack's head. The move left the captain's chest exposed and Jack dropped to one knee and shoved upward with his own sword.

"Sorry, mate," Jack said to the dead captain as he withdrew his blade. "Nothin' personal y'know. If you'd just surrendered I wouldn't have had to kill you."

The sailors nearest Jack had witnessed their captain's fall, and the news of the man's death swept quickly around deck. Seeing that the fight was hopeless, most of the crew surrendered, throwing their weapons down in resignation.

"All right, all of you in the center," Jack ordered the defeated sailors as soon as their weapons had been collected.

"Quartetto, Johnson, search the ship for any other people. I'm goin' to have a look in the cap'n's cabin, the rest of you stay here and guard these fine fellows." Jack gestured to the prisoners.

Whistling a jaunty tune, Jack swaggered into the captain's cabin, picking up various items and examining them, while looking for the shipping manifest.

"How nice of ye, mate," Jack commented to the dead captain. "You pinned it up for me right on the wall."

Running a dirty finger down the list, Jack grinned in satisfaction. Hmm, rum, molasses, mahogany, spices, gold. Very nice bit of swag indeed.

"Ho, lads!" Jack called as he walked back onto the deck. "Very good catch we've gotten. We'll be takin' everythin'!"

His crew cheered and taking his hat off, Jack saluted them with a flourish. Just then, Quartetto came up the stairs from the hold, pushing a man out ahead of him. He looked to be in his forties with tawny brown eyes, dark hair just graying at the temples and a half fearful, half defiant expression on his face.

"Well, who do we have here?" Jack asked interestedly, pacing closer to the prisoner.

"I found 'im in 'is cabin, sir," Quartetto said, prodding the man's back with his pistol. "Almost took me head off with 'is sword."

"Hmm," Jack said, peering closely at the man. "And what's a dandy like you doin' on this merchant ship?"

"I bartered with the captain for passage back to England," the man said in a dignified tone, trying not to show how Jack's invasion of his personal space unnerved him. "And may I ask who you are?"

"Why, mate," Jack stepped back and flung his arms wide, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Robert blinked rapidly as he was pushed out into the bright sunlight by the pirate behind him. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden increase in light, Robert saw another pirate pacing toward him with a peculiar swaying walk that made the man look as though he was slightly drunk. Roberts's gaze was immediately drawn to the pirate's eyes. Intense, dark brown eyes, accented with kohl, that held a spark of cunning and intelligence, belying the pirate's drunken walk. The man wore a red bandana around the front of his head, dark brown, almost black, hair spilling out behind it in a combination of braids, dreadlocks, and loose strands. Some of the hair falling around his face had been beaded and he wore a goatee with two braids dangling from it. The buccaneer was dressed in a loose white shirt, open to mid-chest, with a long, dark gray vest over that, dark breeches and boots that reached to mid-calf. His skin was deeply tanned from many years of sun exposure and his ringed fingers traced fluid patterns through the air as he spoke.

"Well, who do we have here?"

The pirate stepped right into Robert's personal space, coming almost nose to nose with him, and Robert fought the urge to move away.

"Hmm, and what's a dandy like you doin' on this merchant ship?"

"I bartered with the captain for passage back to England," Robert said in a dignified tone, trying not to let the pirate unnerve him. "And who may I ask are you?"

The buccaneer flashed an ivory and gold grin and stepped back, flinging his arms wide. "Why, mate, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Robert's mouth fell open. "You're Captain Jack Sparrow?!"

"Yes, I believe that's what I just said."

Not able to think of anything else to say in his astonishment, Robert blurted out. "You're my brother!"

Jack looked at him incredulously for a moment and then burst out laughing.

"Y'know, mate, I thought I'd heard 'em all, but that's the first time anyone's tried to convince me not to kill them by claimin' to be me brother!" he said, and then dissolved into fresh mirth.

"It's true," Robert said indignantly.

The pirate just waved him away and turned to go to up to the helm.

"You can't ignore me, Jack Lancaster!" Robert shouted at his retreating back.

The pirate's back stiffened and he whirled around. In five paces he was in front of Robert, grabbing him by the shirtfront.

"Where did you hear that name?" he growled.

Will glared at the pirate shoving him up the stairs, wishing he had one of his swords to hand. The young blacksmith had been sleeping in his cabin and was rudely awakened by the muffled sounds of battle. Quickly dressing, he had hurried towards the stairs, cursed when he realized he had left his sword in his cabin and turned around to go get it. Coming back out the door, he had run right into a pirate, sending him staggering backwards with a grunt of surprise.

No matter what he did he couldn't seem to escape all these pirates! He was constantly running into them, metaphorically and literally. Rubbing his sore neck, he briefly wondered if claiming association with Jack would help him. They might let him go. Either that or kill him. Deciding to keep silent for the moment, Will squinted his eyes as he came into the bright sunlight. Glancing around, the young man's eyes widened in surprise as he saw Robert . . . and Jack! The pirate was currently gripping Robert by his shirtfront, looking furious. It was the first time Will had seen the pirate captain look truly angry and it surprised him. Jack was always so flippant, even in the face of mortal danger, and the blacksmith wondered what had brought that look to his friend's face.

He saw Robert say something and Jack's hand strayed to the dagger in his belt.

"Jack, don't!" Will called out, halting the pirate.

At the sound of Will's voice, Jack's entire demeanor changed. Letting go of Robert, he whirled around, greeting Will in a jovial voice.

"Why if it isn't the young Master Turner! Come to give me a wedding invitation have you?"

"Hello, Jack." Will smiled, clasping hands with the pirate. "No, there's no wedding yet."

Jack grinned devilishly. "Ah, your bonny lass has discovered you're a eunuch, eh? Well tell her I'm available anytime she's feelin' the urge."

Will rolled his eyes. Some things never changed. Jack was still as irrepressible as ever, and still giving Will the urge to strike him.

"No, Jack. We're waiting to marry until I've set up my own blacksmith shop."

Jack shrugged. "Well the offer still stands."

Curious as to the cause of Jack's earlier anger, Will directed the conversation to a more serious note.

"Why were you so angry at him, Jack?" Will gestured to Robert.

Jack's kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed. "He knows my old last name and he's claimin' to be my brother, the bastard. I don't know what his scheme is, but my family died on the crossing to England and I don't take kindly to people tryin' to impersonate them."

"Jack, Robert's not trying to impersonate anyone," Will said in a placating tone. "He just saw the stories about you in the _London Times_ and thought you were of the right age and appearance to be the brother he lost twenty-four years ago."

Jack had stilled at the mention of Robert's name and he turned back to Englishman, face blank of all expression. 

"So, you've even found out my brother's name have you?"

The pirate's intense gaze bored into him and Robert had to force himself not to look away.

"Who are you?" Jack stalked closer, frowning slightly in concentration as if Robert was a perplexing puzzle to be solved. "A York, maybe? I imagine the feud between the red rose and the white is still runnin' strong, but what would you have to gain by claimin' to be my brother?"*

He stared at Robert a moment longer and then shook his head and turned away, dismissing the matter.

"Ah, well, it means nothin' to me anyway. I don't know what it is you're wantin', but I'm settin' you in the lifeboats with the rest of this merchant crew and I better not see your face again. Next time I might not be so lenient."

"Wait!" Robert called, desperate now. "Will you at least hear me out?"

Jack paused and looked at Robert consideringly. "Y'know, why not? I haven't heard anythin' amusing in while. It'll be entertainin' to see what kind of story you come up with."

Giving an exaggerated courtly bow, Jack motioned for Robert to precede him into the former captain's quarters while the crew snickered quietly.

Turning to his crew who were eyeing the proceedings with interest, Jack barked, "No disturbances! I don't care if old Barbossa himself decides to return from the dead and pay me a visit, I want no one entering this cabin."

"You can go wherever you want, Will," Jack added over his shoulder to the young blacksmith. "Most of the Pearl's crew knows you, although I've gotten myself a couple extra hands since your last voyage on me magnificent ship, so try not to do anythin' stupid."

Will opened his mouth to reply indignantly, but Jack had disappeared into the cabin, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the young blacksmith muttered under his breath about no-good pirates with inflated egos.

Looking around for someone he knew, Will spotted Gibbs standing near the captive merchant crew and made his way over to the heavyset man.

"Hello, lad!" Gibbs called, beaming when he caught sight of Will, "I was wonderin' when you'd be comin' back to join us."

"Why does it seem to be everyone's mission to turn me into a pirate?" Will said with some annoyance. "I'm a blacksmith, and I intend to stay one!"

Gibbs patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, lad, you'll come around eventually."

Will sighed in exasperation, but let the comment pass, knowing it was useless to argue. He noticed some of the crew going below and watched with detached interest as they returned carrying the cargo. A plank had been set up between the two ships and was being used to roll barrels over while the rest of the plunder was handed over to crew standing on the Pearl's deck.

"So I'm sure the Pearl's been taking in quite a lot of plunder," Will said conversationally.

"Oh aye," Gibbs said, nodding his head. "We take in more than any other ship in the Caribbean."

"And how many people have you killed?" the young blacksmith asked carefully.

The question had been bothering him ever since he'd seen the few dead bodies lying on deck. He didn't mind Jack stealing cargo. After all, the shipments were almost immediately replaced by the companies, and enough ships got by the pirates to make the ventures worthwhile. The plundering did no one any lasting damage, but Will could not overlook the killing.

"Fewer than any other pirate ship, lad, and that's the truth," Gibbs said stoutly. "We only kill those who draw weapons and attack us. We never kill those who surrender. And I think the word's been gettin' around that we don't kill everyone on board the ships we attack like most other pirates do. Soon most ships will be surrenderin' to us when we board them and we won't have to be killin' hardly t'all."

Not that that's going to help the people that are already dead, Will thought silently. But it's definitely much better than what one could expect from other pirates. And soon they won't be killing any more. 

Will's moral compass was completely lost when it came to Jack. The man was a paradox. He engaged in piracy and killed, but at the same time he had shown himself to be a good man. After thinking on it a moment, Will gave up on trying to figure out how that worked and decided just to accept it.

Moving onto a new topic, Will asked, "Have you had any run-ins with the Royal Navy? I've heard Norrington's been having a few problems with Jack."

Gibbs grinned. "Aye, they've tried to catch us a coupla times, but there's no ship that can match the Pearl for speed. I 'magine the Commodore's nearly fit to be tied, him bein' the one that allowed Jack to get away and everythin'."

Will laughed. "Yes, I've heard him muttering about vile and dissolute pirates a few times when he's come over to the governor's mansion, and he's been shooting me some very dirty looks. I can just see him imagining Jack and me swinging side by side from the hangman's noose."

Gibbs snorted. "Jack's too good to be hung. If he ever dies you can be sure it'll be in some spectacular manner that everyone will remember for years."

"No doubt," Will said, chuckling. "Jack never does anything by halves."

"Never," Gibbs agreed. "That man is a breed apart."

* Just a little historical background for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about. The Wars of the Roses were a series of dynastic civil wars in England fought by the rival houses of Lancaster and York between 1455 and 1485. The wars were so named because the emblem of the house of Lancaster was a red rose and that of the house of York a white rose. The wars weakened both houses and the Lancastrians turned to Earl Henry Tudor for leadership. He later became King Henry VII, founder of the Tudor dynasty which produced the famous Queen Elizabeth I.

Both York and Lancaster produced Plantagenet kings, and the original Duke of Lancaster(1362) and Duke of York(1385) were brothers.


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 3- Jack, Will, and Robert set out for England

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Feedback is to me what rum is to Jack. 

Thanks to Orligurl and Starlight for reviewing again. I promise another update tomorrow afternoon PST since this chapter kind of left off right in the middle of the scene.

Also, I hope I've been managing to keep Jack in character. He's one of the more difficult characters to write.

Will paced impatiently up and down the quarterdeck, wondering what was taking Jack and Robert so long. They'd been in the cabin for twenty minutes and Will was starting to wonder what had happened to them. No loud sounds emanated from the cabin so Will was reasonably assured that neither of them had attacked the other. In fact it was relatively quiet all over the ship, the only sounds being the grunts of laboring men, the thump of barrels on deck, and the hushed whispers of the prisoners.

Finally, when Will was just about ready to barge into the cabin despite what Jack had said, the door opened and Jack and Robert emerged. Robert looked very pleased and smiled when Will looked questioningly at him. Jack looked thoughtful, another new look for him, but he grinned as well when Will caught his eye.

"So . . ." Will trailed off expectantly, looking at both men.

"Jack's agreed to come back to England with me to see our parents," Robert replied, beaming.

"But not permanently," Jack added quickly. "I'm just goin' to take a short trip to see me mum and da and then I'm comin' back."

"So you believe Robert's your brother?"

Jack nodded off-handedly. "I'm willin' to believe it."

Robert snorted. "He knows I am. He cross-examined me very thoroughly. I think we managed to get through most of his early childhood."

Jack solemnly shook his head. "I'm still not sure though, mate. You're too old and pompous to be my brother."

"Why you – Robert began indignantly, and then trailed off when he saw Jack grinning. "I take it back, you haven't changed that much. You're still an insufferable annoyance."

"Glad to hear it, mate. Wouldn't want to think I'm losin' my touch." Jack paused. "Though now I've become an annoyance to the entire Caribbean, not just you. Expanded my horizons, so to speak."

Will stifled a snort of amusement. "Only _you_ would be proud of that."

Jack didn't respond to that, his attention having been diverted when one of the barrels being rolled accidentally fell off the side.

"Watch that rum, you swabbies!" he shouted. "Or it's double shifts for each of you!"

Turning to Will and Robert he said in a lower voice. "You two go on over to the Pearl and just sit tight for a bit, savvy? I've got to get all this cargo moved and then get rid of the ship."

Robert looked disapproving. "You are just going to take their whole cargo and then destroy their ship?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, mate. Pirate, remember?"

"Well, can you not just leave it this time?" Robert asked reasonably.

"I've caught the ship and at least half the cargo's already been transferred," Jack explained patiently. "It'd be foolish not to finish the job."

Robert opened his mouth to protest some more, but Will seized him by the wrist and dragged him towards the Black Pearl.

The blacksmith glanced at him wryly. "Just sinking in that your brother is actually a pirate?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Robert said, sounding slightly shocked. "I mean I knew it, but seeing it on paper and seeing it in person are two completely different things. I could not actually picture Jack doing anything like this!"

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," Will said over his shoulder as he grabbed onto a rope and prepared to swing across. "I did. Despite being a pirate, Jack's a good man."

Shaking himself out of his amazement, Robert chose to cross to Jack's ship using the plank that had been laid down to connect the two ships. Inching slowly over and trying not to look down, he finally made his way across and stepped onto the Pearl's deck. Looking around for William, he saw the lad up by the helm standing next to a dark-skinned woman. He noticed William point over to him and say something and the woman started grinning madly.

Feeling slightly nervous, Robert decided to wait where he was until William came back down to him.

"Who is that woman?" Robert asked in an undertone as Will returned.

"Annamaria," Will said, smirking. "I've just given her a whole year's worth of material to aggravate Jack with."

Jack was walking toward them, having just swung over to the Pearl, and he appeared to have caught the end of Will's comment.

"What did you tell that woman?!" he demanded, an aggrieved look on his face. "She's enough to handle without you givin' her ammunition."

"Oh don't worry, Jack," Will said unconcernedly. "I'm sure she won't tease you about it . . . much."

"Bloody whelp," Jack growled in exasperation.

"Someone has to keep you on your toes," Will shot back, grinning.

Jack threw up his hands in defeat. "And you wonder why I drink so much."

The pirate glanced over at the merchant ship. "Speakin' of, we've got a few more barrels of rum to load and then we're done."

"Why do a few barrels of rum matter?" Robert asked, puzzled. "Why not just leave them?"

Jack looked shocked. "Leave the rum? Are you mad?! That's the most important cargo."

"You and your rum," Will muttered in irritation. "I swear you live on the stuff."

Jack flashed a smile. "That's right, mate. Life's not worth livin' if you can't have a pint of good rum."

Robert shook his head. This new Jack was definitely going to take some getting used to.

Will watched the merchant ship sink in a fiery wreck and wondered why it didn't bother him more. See, mate, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Jack's said, I told you you're a pirate, can't runaway from your blood. Shut up, Will told the voice and gave it a mental kick for good measure. He was not a pirate. He did feel some pity for the merchant crew rowing madly away from the wreck in their tiny lifeboats, but most likely they would be picked up by another vessel very soon and tell the terrible tale of how they were beset by the Black Pearl. Jack would have another plundering to his name and the Pearl would continue to grow in reputation.

"So," Will said conversationally to the captain standing next to him, "now that you've effectively destroyed our transportation to England, how are you planning on getting us there? You can't just sail the Pearl on over there."

Jack airily waved off his concerns. "Simple, mate. We'll just catch ourselves a ship in BasseTerre. I trust Gibbs and Annamaria to take care of the Pearl while I'm gone. There won't be any mutiny on their watch. They're good men . . . err, good man and woman."

Will looked skeptical. "What makes you think any ship will take you on?"

Jack patted his shoulder condescendingly. "Will, my boy, ever hear of bribing? Enough money can get you almost anythin'."

Jack, it seemed, was correct. The captain they approached at first eyed Jack's appearance warily and told them firmly that he had no room on his ship for passengers. But after Jack waved a purse full of gold under the man's nose, the captain suddenly remembered that yes, they did have a few extra berths that Mr. Smith and his companions could use. 

Jack smirked and gestured for his brother and Will to precede him onto the ship, swaggering on after them as if he owned the vessel. The first thing Jack did after getting on board was to inspect the ship from stem to stern, frowning in concentration as he examined everything. Finishing his exhaustive review, he announced that the ship would do, though he had seen better.

"I'm definitely raidin' this ship when I get back," Jack added to Will in an undertone. "I want my money back. The price I had to pay to get us on here was criminal."

*************

It had already been three weeks into their journey and Will still wasn't tired of the sea. He leaned against the mainmast, closing his eyes and breathing deeply of the crisp, salty air. He had missed this, the swaying of the deck under his feet, the spray of the waves, the wind whipping through his hair . . .

"Hey, you!"

Will's head jerked back in startlement, hitting the mast with a thud. Rubbing his tender skull, Will glared at the person who had shouted so close to his ear.

"Get down from there!"

Realizing the sailor was not addressing him, Will tilted his head to follow the man's gaze and saw Jack up in the rigging near the mainsail. The young blacksmith shook his head and tried not to laugh. This was the third time so far on their voyage that the sailors had ordered Jack away from various areas of the ship. The helm and the main boom were now off limits to the pirate and it seemed the rigging would now be added to that list. Snagging a loose rope, Jack slid down to the deck, landing on both feet with a solid thump.

"What seems to be the problem, mate?" he inquired pleasantly.

The sailor was slightly red in the face as he stabbed an emphatic finger at the rigging.

"You are _not_ supposed t' be up there! Only members of the crew are allowed!"

Jack shrugged unconcernedly. "I was just fixin' your mainsail, mate. You weren't lettin' out enough canvas for this wind that's blowin'."

The sailor turned nearly apopleptic with rage. "What?!"

Will decided now would be a good time to get Jack off deck since the sailor looked like he was about to wring the pirate's neck with his bare hands. Sidling over next to Jack, Will pointedly cleared his throat.

"Jack? Why don't we go below deck and see what Robert's doing?"

Jack grinned. "Is that your way of tellin' me I should sod off and leave these fine gents to do their work?"

"Yes," Will said succinctly.

"Well far be it for me to disobey the wishes of the future Mr. Swann," Jack said, sweeping his hands outward in a gesture of acceptance.

Will sometimes wondered if Jack would be able to speak if someone tied his hands. The pirate seemed unable to communicate anything without using his entire body. It appeared to be a distracting tactic as well. People got so caught up in watching Jack's graceful motions that they didn't pay attention to what he was saying or only listened with half an ear. But Will refused to be drawn in by it.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothin', mate," Jack said innocently.

Jack? Innocent? Will snorted at the thought. Jack was about as innocent as a cat with a canary.

"It's just I was wonderin' who exactly is going to be the man in your relationship." Jack grinned wickedly. "Last time I saw you, the wench seemed to have you thoroughly cowed, runnin' matters like a right little tyrant she was. Might be more truthful to change your name to Mr. Swann."

"If by that you mean that I don't order Elizabeth around, than you are correct," Will said frostily. "She is intelligent and perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Our marriage is going to be an equal partnership."

Jack shook his head. "You're askin' for trouble, mate. Once women get a taste of control, they start tryin' to run your whole life."

Will raised an eyebrow. "And what would a _pirate_ know such things? Have you ever been married? I highly doubt it, and judging from the number of women that have slapped you, I'd say you're not exactly an expert on how to handle a long term relationship."

Jack unconsciously rubbed his cheek as if he could still feel the sting. "Well I do admit I've had more women slap me than not, but believe it or not, whelp, I was married once."

Will gave him a look of patent disbelief. "Jack Sparrow you are a complete liar, not to mention a thief."

Jack looked pleased. "Why thank ye. I'm actually tellin' the truth about this, though. It was some merchant's daughter from one of the ports that I sailed into, and the only reason I married her was because she was beautiful and I was young and stupid. Didn't last very long. For some reason, her father took a dislike to me and tried to separate me from my head."

"I can't imagine why," Will said sarcastically.

Jack scratched his chin contemplatively then shrugged. "It's a mystery. Don't know what father wouldn't want to have a fine-lookin' chap like meself for his son-in-law."

"A sane one," Will replied, trying not to laugh.

Whenever he got mad at the pirate, Jack always managed to say something ridiculous, making it impossible for Will to stay angry at him.

"Let's go down to the hold and see what Robert's doing," Will said, lightly shoving Jack toward the stairs.

"Or Robin can come up here," Jack said resisting the forward momentum. "I'm stayin' on deck, lad. We'll be makin' port soon."

Narrowing his eyes, Will stared hard at the horizon, trying to catch a glimpse of land, but could see nothing. "How can you tell?"

"See that large, dark smudge on the horizon, looks like a cloud bank?" Jack pointed forward, the sunlight glinting off his silver ring. "That's actually England, shrouded in fog. It'll be gettin' cloudy within a few minutes when we get closer to land."

Jack's prediction was correct, and dark gray clouds soon hung sullenly in the sky, threatening rain. Soon after, the ship entered a bank of fog and a chill settled in the air.

"It's freezing," the young blacksmith said, shivering and rubbing his arms briskly.

"Aye, bit different from the Caribbean, eh?" Jack observed, seemingly unaffected by the cold, though he did put on his long coat. "I always liked it there better. Too wet and cold here."

Will agreed wholeheartedly, but Robert, who had just appeared on deck, seemed delighted with the weather.

"Ah, now this is the way it should be," he said, standing next to Will and Jack. "No more of that damned sweltering heat."

For his part, Will was already looking forward to leaving this cold and going back to the "damned sweltering heat". He'd lived most of his life in the Caribbean and this climate felt completely alien to him. The dank fog that swirled around the ship seemed to be a living thing. It wrapped around everything like a suffocating blanket, deadening light, sound, and motion and seemed to sink into Will's skin, chilling him to the bone.

"How can the sailors tell where they're going in this fog?" he asked Jack, trying to take his mind off the cold.

Jack was eyeing the rigging longingly and he turned reluctantly to answer Will's question.

"They've still got their compass, mate, and they probably have a set course they follow every time so they don't run into any unexpected obstacles. Y'know, shoals, sandbars . . ."

Jack's voice suddenly trailed off and his kohl-lined eyes widened as he stared at something over Will's shoulder. Before Will could turn to see what had caught the pirate's attention, Jack had whirled around and was bounding up the stairs toward the helm.

"Move it you bloody fool!" he shouted, shoving the sailor at the wheel out of the way.

The man had apparently been dozing because the pirate's shove caught him off guard and he stumbled and fell to the deck. Taking the fallen man's place at the helm, Jack spun the wheel hard to the right, his jaw clenched in a tense line.

"Get away from there!" one of the sailors shouted catching sight of Jack and moving toward him.

"There's a bloody big rock that we're about to run into, you idiot!" Jack snapped. "Unless you want your ship smashed into toothpicks I suggest you leave me alone!"

Will turned to see what Jack was talking about . . . and gaped as he saw the towering rock that seemed to have suddenly materialized out of the mist in front of them. The sailors appeared to have noticed it too and they began running around the deck like ants whose hill had just been disrupted, hoarsely shouting questions and orders. Will hurriedly made his way up to Jack and heard the pirate curse under his breath.

"Are we going to make it?" asked an anxious Robert who had followed Will up to the helm.

"Not likely," Jack said tersely, his hands tightly gripping the wheel. "I've turned her as far as she can go, but I don't think it's goin' to be enough. Too late to try an' drop the anchor as well."

The crew seemed to think so as well, and the cry of "All hands brace for impact!" sounded on deck. The ship was swinging sharply to the right, and at first Will thought they were going to make it, but then the crunch of splintering timbers rent the air and Jack flinched unhappily.

"Abandon ship!" one of the sailors bawled. "She's not goin' to stop!"

"What's he talking about?" Will asked, his body thrumming with tension and energy from the danger.

"The ship's forward momentum an' the waves are going to keep smashing us against that rock," Jack explained shortly. "Unless we want to get smashed too, we'd better get out."

"I cannot swim," Robert said, sounding slightly panicked.

"No worries, mate," Jack said, slapping his brother on the back. "You just get yourself to one of those lifeboats and you'll be fine. You too, Will."

"What about you, Jack?" Robert asked in concern. "You are coming with us, too."

Having accepted the situation, Jack's jaunty demeanor was back and he smiled cheerily.

"There's not enough lifeboats for everyone, so I'll just go for a little swim. It'll be refreshin'."

Taking off his hat, coat, and other effects, the pirate shoved them into Will's arms with instructions to keep them safe and not lose them. Then he leapt up onto the railing and balanced there a moment before doing a graceful swan dive into the dark, choppy ocean.


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 4- Jack and company make it to England and Jack meets his parents

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Feedback is to me what rum is to Jack.

I'm very sorry I didn't update when I said I was going to, but school intervened and my Internet wasn't working for a little while. So here's the newest chapter, and I should be updating every weekend, sometimes sooner if I have time.

The Atlantic welcomed Jack into its chilly embrace, the shock of the frigid water nearly taking his breath away. He surfaced with a gasp, wiping the salty water from his eyes, his waterlogged clothes a burdensome weight that tried to pull him down. Looking around, he saw a few other sailors that had decided not to wait for the lifeboats and jumped in as well. Determining that it would be best to get away from the ship, Jack swam out with powerful strokes, trying to keep the blood flowing through his body. Coming to a halt a reasonable distance away, he tread water and waited for Will and Robert to catch up, pushing irritably at his bandana which was dripping water in his eyes. 

"Stupid fools," he muttered under his breath, watching the ship smash up against the rock. "They don't deserve to have a ship."

If there was one thing that really annoyed Jack, it was people who didn't take proper care of a ship. Like Barbossa. Jack thought back with a shudder on the state of his Pearl after he had retrieved it from his mutinous first mate. Black tattered sails, leaks in the hull, grime on the windows, it was disgraceful. As soon as Jack had a chance, he had given her a good careening and swabbing. This crew was no better, though, letting the ship get off course in this fog. When you couldn't see more than a hundred feet in front of the ship, it was imperative to stay directly on course, otherwise you could run into obstacles. Like rocks.

The cold slap of a wave in his face brought Jack back from his musings, and he saw one of the lifeboats heading in his direction with Will, Robert, and a few sailors. In a few seconds they were by him and he hung on to the side with his arms, resting his chin on top.

" 'S about time you got here," Jack mumbled, teeth chattering. "I hope we're very close to land, bloody cold in here."

"We are," one of the sailors assured him. "We were only about five minutes from Liverpool port when we hit the rock."

"Y'know, Robin," Jack said, addressing his brother, "I've only gotten shipwrecked twice, this bein' the second time, and both times I was with you. Are you sure you're not cursed or somethin'?"

Robert raised an eyebrow. "Not likely. Unlike you, I don't believe in any of that superstitious nonsense."

"You would if you'd seen what I have, mate. I was even cursed meself for a bit. Bein' a skeleton was an interestin' experience, but I wouldn't want to do it again anytime soon."

Robert looked at him in disbelief, but didn't pursue the topic, knowing he wouldn't be able to change Jack's mind once his younger brother had gotten an idea into his head. Some things didn't change.

Feeling the breeze blow over his wet body, Jack shivered and sank back into the water.

"Isn't there room for just one more in any of the lifeboats?" Will asked, noticing his friend's discomfort.

The sailors looked doubtful, but one of them called over to a neighboring boat, "Oi, George, you think you could fit one more?"

"It'd be tough, but I think we can manage," George called back.

"Thanks, mate," Jack said, when they'd hauled him in. "Not too used to this cold."

George nodded at him in acknowledgement, but was eyeing the pirate curiously.

"Say, mate," he said abruptly, "I saw you runnin' up to the helm. You noticed that rock before any of us, and even though you weren't supposed t' be up in the riggin', you seemed to know what you were doin'." He eyed Jack's clothing. "You a privateer or somethin'?"

Jack wanted to protest that, but decided it would probably be safer to just play along.

"Aye, I'm a privateer captain. Do all my work in the Caribbean, though, that's why I'm not used t' this weather."

George seemed satisfied with that and didn't press the pirate any further. The rest of the trip passed in silence save for the grunts of the sailors and the splash of the oars, and Jack spent the time thinking about what his parents would say when they saw him. The thought made him grin as he considered how scandalized everyone would be. One of the Lancasters, a pirate. It was unthinkable. Robin had been a bit shocked at first, but then seemed to accept it easily enough. Jack knew that was only because his brother was expecting Jack to become a gentleman once the pirate was exposed to "civilized" society. Ha, no chance of that. But it would be fun to watch everyone's attempts. That was half the reason Jack had agreed to come.

Within fifteen minutes they had reached the port and everyone had disembarked. The ones who had to swim had clambered onto the dock with help from their comrades and the boats were securely tied.

"Where to now, Robin?" Jack asked, accepting his effects back from Will. "Wherever it is, it'd better have warmth an' food."

"The Barnyard," Robert said shortly.

Jack raised both eyebrows. "Now, Robin, I'm usually not too picky 'bout where I sleep, but don't you think we can do better than that?"

"It's an inn," Robert said, smiling slightly. "Despite its name it has some of the best accommodations in this area."

Jack swept his arm out. "Lead on, then, Captain Robin. I leave our course in your capable hands."

The next morning, Jack awoke to the very odd sensation of no motion. The wrongness of this struck him immediately and he sat up abruptly, looking in around in confusion. The strange surroundings quickly reminded him that he wasn't still on the Black Pearl, which was now thousands of miles away, but at an inn in Liverpool. The cool slide of fabric on his skin brought his attention to the fact that he was naked and he remembered that he had hung his clothes by the fire last night in order to dry them out. Staggering out of bed, he pulled on his shirt, breeches, and boots and retied his bandana on his head, feeling a distinct need for some rum. Rummaging around in the small satchel of things he had brought with him from the Pearl, he emerged triumphantly with a flask. Popping off the top, he took a swig, licking his lips in satisfaction. Ah, nothing like it in the world.

"Mornin', Robin," Jack called loudly to his brother who was sleeping on the other bed in the room. "Fancy a drink?"

With a sigh, Robert rolled over to face his brother and opened sleepy eyes. "What do you want, Jack?"

"Just wonderin' if you'd like a drink, mate," Jack said cheerfully. "And by the way, what did you do with dear William? Haven't lost him have we?"

"He's in the room next to ours," Robert muttered, yawning widely as he did so. "I don't suppose I'm going to be able to get any more sleep with you up?"

"Not likely," Jack replied, stretching his arms to relieve the morning tightness.

Grumbling, Robert slowly got out of bed, running a tired hand through his loose hair and searching around for his clothing. As soon as he had gotten dressed, the brothers went downstairs to have breakfast and found Will already there waiting for them. Will informed them of his plans to leave immediately for London, but Robert wouldn't hear of it and insisted that Will come and stay with the Lancasters for a few days. Will put up a token protest but gave in after Robert made it clear he would find a refusal gravely insulting. After eating, Robert hired a coach to take them to the Lancaster estate, which was north of Liverpool, and they left the inn in the late morning. Jack found the coach to be highly amusing and asked Robert if he really rode around in one all the time.

It was evening by the time they reached the Lancaster estate, and all three were tired of the constant bumping and bouncing. Jack declared ships to be much more comfortable and reliable means of transportation and refused to ever ride in a coach again.

"I think me arse is permanently bruised," he said mournfully, as he descended stiffly from the coach.

"Mine too," Will groaned.

He clambered out after Jack, tripping on the coach step and almost falling flat on his face.

"Steady there, lad," Jack said, putting his hand on Will's chest to keep him upright. "Don't want ye gettin' broken when we've jus' gotten here."

Will gave the pirate a good-natured shove. "Don't worry, Jack. I have to stay well to keep you out of mischief."

Jack gave the young man a look of feigned innocence. "Me? I'd never do anytin' of the sort. 'Sides, I think you've gotten it backwards, whelp. I seem to recall havin' to tell you several times not to do anythin' stupid. Trouble's my job, what's your excuse?"

Unable to think up an appropriate retort, Will settled for glaring at the pirate in what he hoped was a suitably disdainful manner. The effect was ruined, though, when in the act of walking and glaring at Jack at the same time, the blacksmith ran into a gateway post, setting Jack off in a fit of laughter.

Robert came around from the other side of the coach, having just paid the coachman, and viewed the scene unamusedly. "Please, Jack, do settle down. We're not on Tortuga."

"Come on, Robin," Jack said, throwing his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Where's your sense of fun?"

"Put away until the proper place and time," Robert said, shrugging out of his brother's hold. "Come. Let us announce ourselves to Mother and Father."

When Robert's back was turned, Jack rolled his eyes and slid back to whisper in Will's ear.

"Y'know, I do believe he and the Commodore would get along famously."

"I think he's just nervous and excited about you finally being here," Will whispered back. "You know how the British don't like to show strong emotions."

Jack nodded decisively. "I'm very glad I'm not British."

Will looked at him strangely. "Jack, you are British."

"No, I'm a pirate, mate. There's a difference," Jack said as though it were obvious.

Will sighed in exasperation. "Pirate is not a nationality."

"It takes a certain kind to be a pirate, lad. We're our own breed. Nationality doesn't matter. Pirate blood flows strong in you, too, as I think you'll find out one day."

"I am not a pirate!" Will said fiercely and then stalked off after Robert before Jack could reply.

The knowing little smile that Jack wore as he caught up to the blacksmith didn't help Will's temper, and he fought the urge to wipe the smirk off the pirate's face as they stood in front of the large double doors to the estate, waiting for someone to answer their knock.

Within a few seconds, the doors grated ponderously open and an elderly man peered out.

"Master Robert!" he gasped in surprise. "Where have you been? Your ship was due days ago!"

Robert smiled fondly at the old man. "I was delayed, Brett. Are Mother and Father in?"

"Yes," Brett said, opening the door wider and standing to the side to allow the men in. "They are hosting a party tonight in honor of the birthday of Mrs. Lancaster's sister . . ."

Brett suddenly trailed off as he caught sight of Jack who had been standing unseen behind Will and Robert. The old man's nostrils flared as if he had gotten a whiff of something particularly vile and his lips pinched into a thin line of disdain and disapproval.

"Does the master wish to be announced immediately to his parents or would you and, ah, your companions like to freshen up first?" Brett asked, making it clear he thought it would take a lot more than that to fix Jack.

"Hello, old son," Jack said, leaning close to the old man and smirking. "Been a long time since I've seen you."

Brett tried subtly to edge away from the pirate. "I'm afraid I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before, Mr. . .?"

"Sparrow," Jack said, sticking out a hand which Brett ignored.

"Well, hem, Mr. Sparrow, I'm sure I would remember if I had ever met you," Brett said, his tone indicating that the remark was not to be taken as a compliment.

"Let's jus' say I've changed a bit since you last saw me, mate," Jack said, his right hand making a negligent little motion as he spoke.

"Hmph," Brett sniffed in disbelief.

Anxious and impatient, Robert cut in on their exchange. "Brett, will you announce us in the ballroom please?"

"Certainly," Brett said, motioning to the men. "Follow me."

The three of them walked down the short hallway, their footsteps echoing on the polished stone floor, and Jack watched in amusement as Will stared in awe at the lavish decorations and gilded portraits hanging on the walls. 

"It reminds me a bit of the Swann mansion in Port Royal, but larger and wealthier," Will said in an undertone.

"Yes I suppose so," Jack said, though he'd never seen the Swann mansion before.

"I can't believe you used to live here," Will said, clearly unable to imagine the pirate in such surroundings.

Jack shrugged. "Just when I was younger. We moved to the Caribbean when I was about eight. Don't remember a whole lot 'bout this place."

They had reached the open doors to the ballroom, and Robert turned around to look at Jack, a mischievous smile playing about his mouth.

"Jack, would you rather go upstairs and change first or shall I have Brett announce us now?"

Jack grinned back. Robert still didn't mind stirring things up now and then it seemed.

"It's good to see they haven't completely knocked the fun out of you, mate. Announce us now."

"You heard, Mr. Sparrow, Brett," Robert said, composing his face back to solemnity although a gleam still lurked in his eyes.

"Very good, sir," Brett said, still looking at Jack as if he were a nasty cockroach that had scuttled into the dining room. "I will need the full names of your two companions."

Smiling slightly at the antics of the two brothers, Will gave his name. "William Turner II."

Smoothing a hand over his goatee and its braids, Jack said, "Announce me as Captain Jack Sparrow, also known as Jack Lancaster."

Brett looked horrified and turned to Robert to protest this cruel practical joke, but Robert held up a hand, forestalling him.

"Do as he says, Brett."

Brett looked as though he would gladly have wrung Jack's neck with his bare hands, but Jack had had much more fearsome individuals give him that same look and he paid it no heed.

Brett went to stand in the open doorway and cleared his throat loudly. The orchestra stopped and the chatter in the ballroom hushed, people curious as to who these late arrivals could be.

"May I present, Master Robert Lancaster?"

Robert stepped into the ballroom, smiling, and the noise swelled as people crowded around him, all asking where he had been. Brett cleared his throat again to indicate he wasn't done and the people quieted again.

"Master William Turner II."

Will walked in and issued his most formal bow to the assembled crowd, his face solemn. A few of the young ladies giggled when they saw him and whispered to each other behind their fans.

"A friend I met in my travels," Robert added by way of explanation, "and there is one other person to be introduced."

His face wearing a pained look, Brett announced, "Captain Jack Sparrow, also known as Jack Lancaster."

The entire room went still at the name. Most everyone there knew the story of how the youngest Lancaster had perished on the crossing to England from the Caribbean. It was tragic affair and no one discussed it within hearing of the parents. Now it seemed someone was playing a horrible joke on the Lancasters. Everyone leaned forward to see this unimaginably ill-mannered person . . . and then Jack swaggered into the room and dead silence fell.

Jack grinned roguishly exposing his gold teeth and tipped a wink. "Hello, mates."

At this, a hubbub filled the room, the word "pirate" being heard several times and a few of the ladies fainted gracefully, to be helped to couches by their husbands.

Robert felt a strong hand clamp onto his arm and turned to see his father standing behind him.

"Robert what is the meaning of this!?" the silver-haired man hissed angrily.

"Just what it seems, Father," Robert said calmly. "I went to the Caribbean and found my brother, just as I told you I would."

"Are you trying to tell me that is our Jack?" the father asked incredulously.

"It is," Robert said firmly. "You may question him as much as you like and you will see I am telling the truth."

"Well could you not at least have conducted this in a more private setting?" his father demanded agitatedly.

"I apologize," Robert said, feeling a little ashamed of what he had done.

Delighted with the chaos he had caused, Jack stood for a moment to admire it. He heard snatches of people's conversations, most of them focused on his appearance. "That hair!" was heard as well as "Those clothes!" and "Barbaric tattoos!" Preening slightly, Jack swaggered toward his father and brother, people parting before him as if he had the plague.

"Hello Da," Jack said when he'd reached them. "Bet you don't recognize me too well, eh?"

Taking in the beaded hair, the braided goatee, the kohl-lined eyes, and the ringed fingers, Mr. Lancaster replied faintly. "No, I'm afraid I do not."

"Why don't we go to your study, Father?" Robert suggested. "We can discuss this there. Mother should come too."

"A good idea," Mr. Lancaster agreed.

"Will can hear this too," Jack said, eyeing the lad who was standing uncomfortably by the door, not sure what to do with himself.

"That's fine," their father said, impatient to get everyone, especially Jack, out of the room.

Robert went over to a settee where his mother was sitting and gently offered his arm to escort her to the study. Ignoring the giggling ladies, Jack snagged the blacksmith by the arm and pulled him towards the door. When they were all in the study, Mr. Lancaster firmly shut the doors behind him and turned to go sit at his deck, avoiding the pirate who was nonchalantly leaning against the wall and toying with the handle of his blade.

"Now," Jack's father said, sitting behind his desk and addressing Jack. "Sir, you will tell me what you are doing in my house and then I am going to hand you over to the authorities. I'm sure they will be most happy to get their hands on a pirate."

"I imagine so," Jack said in a bored tone, examining his nails, "but they wouldn't keep me for long."

"And why is that?" Mr. Lancaster asked icily, remarkably calm for one who had an armed pirate standing in his study.

One corner of Jack's mouth tilted up in a smile. " Because I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will sarcastically mouthing the words along with him and winked briefly at the lad who responded by rolling his eyes. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Jack wondered if the boy perhaps suffered from some kind of ailment.

"Anyway," Jack continued, "I doubt you would want to throw your long lost son to the dogs."

"Nothing you can say could possibly convince me that you are my son," Mr. Lancaster informed him.

Sighing dramatically at having to go into this again, Jack recounted specific memorable events in his childhood, revealing things that only Jack Lancaster could know. At the end of the narrative, Jack's mother stood up unsteadily, and walking over to her son, threw her arms around him, sobbing.

"There, there, mum," Jack said, awkwardly patting his mother on the back.

Help! he mouthed to Robert, not sure what to do with a sobbing woman.

"It's all right, Mother," Robert said, gently disengaging her from Jack and holding her.

"I can't believe it's you, Jack," his father said in a low, stunned voice. "The sailors said they saw you washed overboard that day of the storm. It was impossible for you to survive they said."

"Improbable," Jack corrected.

"Impossible is not generally a word that can be applied to Jack," Will added.

Running a hand through his curly hair, he smirked at Jack. "You know, Jack, those stories of your childhood were very entertaining. I can't wait to tell Annamaria."

Jack's eyes widened. "No!" he said forcefully. "You tell her and I swear I'll string you up on the mizzenmast, whelp."

"Is Annamaria your wife?" Mr. Lancaster asked curiously.

Jack's horrified expression set Will off in a fit of mirth and he tried to explain it to Mr. Lancaster between bouts of laughter

"No, sir, Annamaria is part of Jack's crew on the Black Pearl."

"That's right," Mr. Lancaster said as if he had forgotten. "Robert was telling me some of the exploits of the pirate captain Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl. I never read those stories myself."

"I've got to get a look at those," Jack said, face lighting up. "Have to see what they're sayin' 'bout me. Have quite a reputation do I?"

"You do and you know it," Will said reproachfully.

Jack grinned. " 'Course, mate, but it never hurts to see it reinforced."

"Since you obviously survived the storm and made it to land," Mr. Lancaster interrupted, still trying to figure Jack out, "how did you become a pirate? You could have gone to one of our family friends and stayed with them until we could come get you."

"Well," Jack said, his eyes getting a faraway look, "it happened like this . . ."


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 5- In which Jack tells a little about his past, takes a bath, and loses something dear to him.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Feedback is to me what rum is to Jack.

Thank you so much for the reviews! 

Ripley and Starlight 8- Yeah, the idea of Jack having a mother is amusing in itself. I'm glad you thought it was funny!

Tinania- Thanks! Jack's one of the harder characters to write and I'm happy you like him.

Jack floated lazily, warmly in the clouds, the passing of time no consequence in this ephemeral place. He could lay there forever in the peace and calm, but as he turned his head, something sharp stabbed him in the cheek, abruptly waking him from his stupor. He groggily raised his head from where it rested on the driftwood, rubbing his cheek where the splinter had jabbed him. Not realizing at first where he was, he looked stupidly around, confused by the blue and brown surrounding him. Oh wait, storm, falling overboard, almost drowning. The memories of his ordeal abruptly returned to him and he massaged his forehead with one hand, trying to relieve the dull ache in his head . . . and paused. Wait a second, ocean is blue not brown. Twisting his head around, he found the brown he had seen earlier and realized it was a ship bearing down upon him. He was saved! Waving an arm madly, he shouted hoarsely at the boat, hoping at least one person on deck would hear him. The ship passed so close to him that the ripples it caused in the water rocked him back and forth like a child in a cradle.

"Help! Help!" he called, his voice raw from salt and wind.

Just when he thought they were about to pass him by, heads suddenly appeared over the side and shouts could be heard on deck. They've seen me, he thought dizzily. I'm not going to die. A rope was thrown down to him and he grasped it with all his strength, struggling to hold on as they hoisted him on deck.

"Well look at tha'," a rough voice said. "It's justa wee lad. Wonder where 'e came from?"

Squinting up at the ring of faces above him, Jack saw a group of rough-looking men, many of them scarred and tattooed. Pirates. He bit his lip in fear, unconsciously, wrapping his arms around his knees in a protective position.

"Are . . . are you pirates?" he ventured, terrified that they were going to kill him and throw his corpse out to sea for the fish to nibble on.

"Aye, that we are," a square-faced curly haired man said, the one that had pulled him up, Jack realized vaguely. "And what's a lad like you doin' floatin' about on the sea?"

"There was a storm, I was washed overboard," Jack said, desperately trying to think of a way to escape.

The curly haired man opened his mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted by an irritated grumble from outside the circle.

"Now, laddies, what's goin' on? This ha' better be good for half of ye to leave yer posts."

"A castaway, Captain," one of the men said respectfully. "We just pulled him on board."

"Let me getta look at him, then," said the voice with the Irish lilt.

The circle parted and Jack saw a man of about medium height with dark red hair and eyes the color of the stormy sea regarding him carefully.

"Well the scrawny little thing's no use t' me," the captain said carelessly. "Toss him back in."

"Wait, Captain Killian," the curly haired man interjected. "We can keep 'im on as a cabin boy. I'll look after 'im and teach 'im."

The red-haired man looked hard at Jack's rescuer and then nodded once. "All right, Turner, you can keep the lad, but make sure he stays out of trouble, and teach him somethin' useful."

Once all the other pirates had drifted back to their posts, Turner took Jack to his cabin and got the boy some dry clothing and food.

"Am I to go back to my parents now?" Jack asked hopefully in between bites of bread.

"Where are your parents, lad?" Turner asked him, a cautious look in his eyes.

"They were on the same ship as me," Jack said.

Turner looked away, an unreadable look on his face. "That ship was wrecked. We came across it about an hour back. All the lifeboats were there still, so no one survived."

"What?" Jack stopped eating, his eyes open in shock. "No! You're lying! They can't be dead. Robin and Mother and Father. They'd survive."

But Turner was shaking his head. "I'm sorry, lad. They're gone."

Silent tears welled in Jack's eyes and spilled over onto his cheeks, but he wiped them away roughly, not wanting to show weakness in front of this pirate.

"There, there, lad," Turner said kindly, patting him on the back. "It'll be all right. I'll look after you from now on."

Jack hiccuped once and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "You will?"

"Aye." Turner looked suddenly sad. "Since I can't be there for my own son, I'll take care of you."

"How old is your son?" Jack asked, interested. He didn't know pirates could have families.

Turner's eyes softened. "He's just turned one."

"I'm twelve, or I'm going to be tomorrow," Jack said, trying to hold back the tears again. His family had planned on having a celebration for him when they got back to England.

The pirate smiled. "Well then we'll have to celebrate won't we? By the way, my name's William."

"Jack," the boy said, his smaller hand swallowed by the pirate's own as they shook hands.

"Don't worry, Jack," William said reassuringly. "Everythin' will turn out all right."

"And that's how I ended up becomin' a pirate," Jack concluded. "Ol' Bill took me in, taught me the ropes. Obviously he lied to me 'bout my family's deaths, but that was most likely to protect me. He probably thought I'd jump ship first chance I got to go look for my parents, and Captain Killian didn't take kindly to deserters. Killian was impressed at how quickly and well I learned, though, and by the time I was twenty I was first mate. A couple years after that I got me own ship and crew, started makin' a name for myself. Then the mutiny happened and I spent ten years jumpin' from ship t' ship, thinkin' up ways to get my Pearl back from that bloody bastard, Barbossa. 'Course none of them actually worked until I ran into dear William here, but I'm not gettin' into that right now."

"So that's how you became friends with my father," Will said, fascinated by this glimpse of Jack's little known past.

Jack nodded. "Aye. Bill stayed with me from that day on, followed me onto the Pearl. I was furious when they stranded me on that island. Thought Bill had helped them do it. Wasn't until later I found out he had no part in it and that Barbossa had him killed for his friendship with me."

"Oh you poor dear," Jack's mother said, sighing. "I can't imagine how horrible it must have been for you among all those evil pirates. I wish I could have spared you that."

Jack gave her a puzzled look. "I loved it. The best thing in the world is bein' on a ship with the wheel under your hand and endless horizons stretchin' before you."

"But you grew up among pirates, my poor Jack," his mother said, obviously not understanding what he was saying.

"Mum, I am a pirate," Jack said patiently.

"Yes, but you're here now and you don't have to do that anymore," his mother said tearfully. "Oh you don't know how happy this makes me, to see you again after thinking you dead all these years."

"It's good to see you, Jack," his father said gruffly, clasping his younger son's hand.

Will saw a look of genuine happiness come over Jack's face as he squeezed his father's hand. "I'm glad to see both of you too."

Will looked away for a minute, his throat tightening as he thought how he would never be able to see his father or mother again. He was glad Jack had gotten the chance to see his own parents.

Looking at the clock over the mantle, Jack's mother bustled towards the door, energetic despite her age. "I will tell the maids to prepare some rooms for you. You all must be exhausted, and Robert," she turned to her husband, "we must be getting back to the party. People will be wondering."

"Yes, of course," her husband said, "just one moment."

He looked at Will. "And how exactly do you fit into all of this young man? I noticed that you bear the same name as that of the pirate who rescued Jack."

"I am his son," Will admitted unashamedly.

Mr. Lancaster inclined his head. "We are indebted to your family for saving Jack."

Will colored and shook his head. "Jack has done many things for me as well. I am in his debt."

Jack, who had been listening to the conversation, broke in. "I saved your life, you saved mine. Let's just say we're square and leave it at that, aye?"

The creak of the door alerted them to the return of Mrs. Lancaster who had reappeared from her mission to have rooms readied.

"Come on, all of you, to bed," she said, shooing Jack and Will out of the study. "There has been enough discussion for now. Jack you take the room on the left, and Master Turner you take the one on the right."

"I think I'd forgotten how bossy she can be," Jack said in an undertone to Will as they climbed the stairs.

"Jack, that's not a very nice thing to say about your own mother," Will said reproachfully.

Jack gave him a withering look. "Well she's not your mother, is she? I'm startin' to remember all the things I didn't like about livin' here."

Will was completely unsympathetic. "Forgive me if I don't weep for you."

Jack grinned. "Now, now, no need to get sarcastic, I was jus' makin' an observation. Fortunately I'm not going to be here that long."

"That reminds me," Will said suddenly, remembering his reason for being in England. "I should leave for London the day after tomorrow. I'm expected there soon at the blacksmith guildhall."

"I'm comin' with you," Jack said immediately.

"Why?" Will asked, frowning. "Don't you want to spend time with your family?"

"Couple days should be enough," Jack said firmly. "You really think I would want to stay here for any length of time? I don't belong here."

Will had to agree that that was true enough, and he was secretly glad that Jack was accompanying him. The engaging pirate would make the trip to London go much faster.

" 'Sides," Jack added, "who else is goin' to keep you from doing anythin' stupid?"

He ducked a swipe from Will and bounded up the stairs, grinning madly. Will shook his head. Jack had to be the strangest, most outlandish, most aggravating person he'd ever met. But that was why he liked the man.

The next afternoon found Jack sliding furtively down the hallway, looking around quickly to make sure no one was about before swiftly slipping into the kitchen. Only two girls were present inside and the pirate mentally congratulated himself. This would be easy.

"Hello, luv," he purred, swaying over to the two girls who were rolling dough on a countertop.

The auburn-haired, blue-eyed girl looked up first and gave a gasp of startlement at seeing the pirate.

"Look Jean," she whispered, nudging the girl next to her. "It's the pirate the other servants were talking about!"

The two looked a little nervous, so Jack smiled disarmingly and kept his distance so as not to be threatening.

"Sorry to startle you like that, sweethearts," he said smoothly. "Didn't know this was the kitchen."

"Are you the Captain Jack Sparrow the papers 'ave been talkin' 'bout?" the one called Jean asked boldly.

"Aye, that's me," Jack said, pleased. "Didn't know I was gettin' to be so famous."

Jean moved a little closer in interest, while the auburn-haired girl hung back.

"Is that story true about how you escaped from seven East India agents?" she asked eagerly.

"Oh, aye, now there's a tale," Jack said, deciding to hook them with a story. "Well, it started with my plundering of the Tir na Nog, captain was an Irishman, and let me tell you, it's best not to mess with the Irish. When they get their dander up it's somethin' to see. Should've remembered that from me first captain. Anyway, I confiscated their cargo . . ."

A half hour later, Jack was still caught up in his story, relishing his avid audience. His hands moved extravagantly to illustrate his words, and he paced back in forth in front of the girls, acting out his various swordfights.

"And then . . ." he paused dramatically and the girls leaned forward breathlessly.

Cocking his head to the side, Jack regarded his audience of two. "Y'know, this tale's made me mighty thirsty. I don't suppose there's any rum around here?"

"No rum," Jean said, shaking her head. "But we've got some whiskey," she added hopefully.

Jack gave a sigh of long suffering. "I suppose that will do."

The girls scrambled to get it and handed it shyly to Jack. Taking a deep pull, Jack licked his lips consideringly. Definitely not as good as rum. But it would do.

"So now where was I? Oh yes, so then I used the pike to vault over the wall . . ."

Jack quickly finished up his story and then took leave of the two girls, despite their protests, carrying with him five bottles of whiskey. Humming the pirate tune Elizabeth had taught him under his breath, he climbed the stairs to his room, running into a maid on the way who informed him that Mrs. Lancaster wanted to see him. After stashing the whiskey safely in his room, Jack went searching for his mother and found her in her dayroom doing needlepoint or some other women's activity.

"Afternoon, mum," he said pleasantly. "You wanted to see me?"

Looking up, Mrs. Lancaster smiled at her youngest, still delighted at his return. At the same time though, her eyes ran critically up and down his figure, and Jack's fingers twitched nervously, knowing that something unpleasant was to come. He still remembered that look and it had never boded well.

"I hope you are settled in comfortably, dear?" she inquired, and the pirate wanted to tell her to just get on with it and skip the formalities.

Jack bobbed his head in acknowledgement but made no comment.

"Good, good," she said absently, her eyes lingering on his wild hair. "Jack, the maids are doing the washing today and perhaps you should give them your clothes to wash."

"Aye, I can do that," Jack said cautiously. It didn't sound too bad yet.

"I'll have one of the maids draw a bath for you as well," she said, smiling. "I'm sure you must be in need of one after your journey."

Jack snorted and said bluntly. "I usually only take two or three baths a year. I take enough dips in the ocean that I usually just smell like salt."

"And rum of course," he added as an afterthought.

His mother looked faintly appalled, but she gathered herself and said, "Yes, I'm sure it was difficult for you living among the pirates, but now that you're here you can have baths and dress in fine, clean clothes."

Jack sighed. His mother just didn't seem to get it. He liked being a pirate, he liked all the things that came with being a pirate, and he didn't want to change. He'd expected something like this from his parents, though. They still thought of him as a grown up version of the thirteen year old he had been, but he was nothing like that. He had changed so completely that they would never be able to understand him. Robin might understand, but his parents never would. He could already see the coming confrontations.

"All right, I'll take a bath," Jack agreed. After all, what could it hurt?

Sitting in the bath water which had long ago gone from hot to tepid, Jack lustily sang his favorite song, ignoring young William who had shouted at him several times to shut up.

" . . . Drink up me hearties, yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!"

So saying, he toasted his absent Pearl and took a long swig of whiskey. Letting one arm hang over the tub, he trailed his fingers along the wet floorboards and wondered what the Pearl was doing right now.

"Probably pillagin' a nice fat merchant vessel," he muttered, his words slurred, "and without me too. 'S a bloody bad idea t' come 'ere. Should've stayed 'ome."

Lifting up his bottle he prepared to take another drink, then realized it was empty and dropped it to the left, reaching to the right to grab another bottle. Popping off the top, he bet himself that he could drink it without breathing and promptly set about proving it. About half way through, though, his vision started blackening around the edges and he promptly passed out, the bottle falling from his limp fingers.

Awakening who knew how many hours later, he opened his eyes slowly, wincing for a moment against the bright light coming through the window as the sun set in a blaze of orange and yellow. He sat up in the now cold water and abruptly realized something was wrong. Feeling his head with his hands, he realized his banadana had been taken off. Suspicious, he felt the rest of his head, realizing his hair was wet. Nothing wrong with that, but then he sniffed it doubtfully, felt it again, and his eyes widened. Feeling his goatee he relaxed a little when he realized it was still there, but then he felt his chin and . . . no! Jumping out of the bath, he ran to the full-length mirror in the room and let out a cry of horror. His hair! When he'd been passed out someone had come in, removed everything from it, washed it, and trimmed about two inches off it! And his goatee! Someone had snipped off his braids!

The door burst open suddenly as Will came running in and skidded to a halt when he saw Jack.

"What's wrong?" he asked anxiously. "I heard you shout."

"And so you came to rescue me, my knight in shining armor," Jack said, swooning dramatically.

Will scowled. "Are you trying to play some kind of trick on me?"

Jack sobered up. "No, but look what they did to my hair!"

Looking critically at his friend, Will began to smile as he saw what had happened.

"It's not funny!" Jack growled. "They took out everything from my hair! And washed it! It'll never be the same again. And my braids!"

"Actually I think it looks quite nice," Will said decisively. "Anyway, hair will always grow back, and you can re-bead your hair."

"But it's not the same," Jack said mournfully. "I knew my mother was planning something. I know that look."

His head jerked up suddenly, eyes bright. "Wait, my clothes! If she's done something to my clothes, I swear . . ."

He left the threat hanging and hurriedly wrapped a towel around himself, drying off quickly before bounding down the stairs and outside to where the maids had been doing the washing. A few of them were taking clothes down from the lines and they squealed and ran when they saw the half-naked man rushing towards them.

"Where are they, where are they?" Jack muttered, searching for his clothes.

"Ha!" he said triumphantly when he had found them, dragging them down and inspecting them for damage.

To Jack's relief they were untouched except for being cleaner, which he didn't mind. His bandana was there too and he grabbed that before going back inside. Once in his room, he dressed and began the process of re-beading his hair, mumbling dire threats against his mother all the while. After finishing he looked in the mirror and felt a little better. He did look different, but not too much, and the hair would grow back. He felt bereft without the braids on his chin though, especially when he sometimes moved to tug lightly on them in thought, only to realize they weren't there. He wondered if this is how people felt when they lost a limb, the phantom pains that made you feel as if you still had the appendage. He knew the comparison was a little exaggerated, but damn it! This was his hair! It was an integral part of his persona, and he liked it the way it had been. 

Stalking downstairs, he found his brother and challenged him to a game of cards, which Robert accepted. Jack cheated of course and won most of the hands, which made him feel better. Will came down to join them, but after a few hands he caught onto Jack's tricks and the pirate had to come up with new ones, which was an interesting challenge. Will was more intelligent than he acted sometimes, and Jack was of the opinion that with time, the lad would make a suitable pirate. They continued playing until Robert had lost most of the money he had on him, and then the older man bowed out, leaving Jack and Will themselves.

"Want to keep playin', lad?" Jack asked, stretching luxuriously and slouching back in his chair in a self-satisfied way.

"You cheated," Will stated, glaring at Jack.

"Pirate," Jack reminded him. "Remember?"

"I still say I would have beaten you if you hadn't thrown that sand in my face," Will maintained, Jack's words bringing to mind their first meeting.

Jack grinned. "But I did, and so you didn't. I play by my own rules, whelp, and I win by them."

"That's only because you are an uncivilized, uncouth, dirty, rascally pirate," Will retorted.

Jack tilted his chair back onto two legs. "Ah, very true, but you forgot charming and handsome."

"And egotistical," Will muttered, watching Jack rock precariously back and forth on the chair legs It was so tempting, but no, that was something Jack would do and he would not give the pirate the satisfaction of acting like him.

"So how early are you plannin' on leavin' tomorrow," Jack asked casually, turning to a new subject. 

Will was about to reply, but Jack's mother suddenly burst into the sitting room, looking highly disapproving.

"Jack, what is this I hear about you running half naked outside chasing after the maids?" she demanded without preamble

"I was just gettin' my clothes," Jack said carelessly.

His mother frowned. "I don't care what you were doing. That is highly improper behavior and I will not tolerate in my house. And put your chair back down."

Jack let the chair hit the ground with a thump and stood up. His mother only came up to his chin and he glowered down at her.

"Listen, woman, I'm a grown man. I don't take orders from you or anyone else."

His mother wasn't listening though and was instead staring at his hair. "The beads and braids are still in your hair. I thought I told that maid to take them out."

At the mention of his hair, Jack's scowl deepened. "She did. I put them back in."

His mother shook her head and reached for his hair. "Those are horrible. Unbefitting a gentleman. You should take them out and tie your hair back in a nice tail."

Exasperated, Jack spoke a little more harshly than he meant to. "I don't think you understand the situation. I am a pirate. I drink, I kill, I steal. I'm a scalawag and a rogue and could probably be hanged ten times over for all the crimes I've committed."

"Dear, don't speak of such things," his mother said nervously. "That's what you used to do. But now you're home and you can be a gentleman again."

Jack sighed, resigned. She was obviously never going to get it. 

"Think what you like, mum," was all he said, deciding it best not to argue the point right now.

Ushering his mother out the door, Jack turned to Will who was still sitting the table, looking faintly embarrassed at having witnessed this brief family scuffle.

"Now," Jack said, "back to my earlier question. It had better be as soon as possible. I'm not stayin' another day in this madhouse. We leave early morning, savvy?"

Will shrugged. "That's fine."

"Good," Jack said and then fled up to his room to have some whiskey.


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 6- In which Jack, Robert, and Will go to London and Jack and Will run into some trouble.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Feedback is to me what rum is to Jack

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I'm glad you guys think it's funny. As I said before, too, there should be an update every weekend. Is that soon enough Captain Red Black, or will I have to walk the plank? ;)

Note: When you guys get to the part where Jack and Will are running from the mob, play Track 3 The Black Pearl. It goes well with it, and that was what I was listening to when I wrote it. J 

The next morning, Jack was up and ready before everyone else, his pistol and sword tucked safely in his belt, his satchel slung over his shoulder. A servant stopped by him for a moment to inform the pirate that his father and brother would be accompanying them to London to take care of some business in Parliament, and then hurried off when he saw Jack fingering the handle of his sword. Jack grinned as the servant fled down the hall and leaned against the stair railing to wait for Will and Robert. He didn't mind that his father and Robert were coming along. The more the merrier. 

While waiting for everyone to get ready, he spent the time flirting with the maids and terrorizing the menservants until most of the house was in a furor. Enjoying the uproar he'd caused, Jack leaned against a wall and watched everything, highly entertained by it all. A few minutes later Will appeared looking very disheveled and glaring menacingly at Jack.

"This is all your doing," he accused, waving his arms to encompass the whole house.

"Guilty as charged," Jack said easily, not in the least bit remorseful.

William seemed to want to say something, but then just growled and disappeared back upstairs. Jack smiled and began whistling. He loved being a pirate.

Within another hour, things had settled down enough for the group to be on its way and they had everything packed on the coach. Jack stood in front of the coach, eyeing it dubiously, and refused to get inside.

"Isn't there any other way to go?" he asked plaintively.

"I suppose you could ride one of the horses," his father said hesitantly.

Jack immediately seized on that. "Yes! I'll ride a horse. Horses are better."

An hour later, Jack decided he had been gravely mistaken. Horses were not better. Horses were, in fact, worse. For one thing, Jack hadn't been on a horse in years and his riding skills were rusty to say the least. Secondly, the bumping and bouncing on horseback was not any better than in a coach. And his horse was an absolute devil. Every time he got off it, it was constantly trying to chew on his hair, his coat, his fingers, and it seemed to have penchant for stopping suddenly and without warning.

Clutching his hat with one hand, the reins with the other, Jack glared down at the horse who had abruptly quit moving and almost thrown the pirate off its back. He fumbled with the pistol at his belt, desperately wanting to shoot the stupid animal. Getting it free, he gazed at it longingly.

"Y'know, horse," he said, nudging the equine with his pistol barrel, "you are very close to not seein' your nice warm stable ever again."

"Jack, what are you doing?" asked Robert, who had stuck his head out of the coach window to check on his brother.

"Oh, nothin'," Jack said, smiling and putting the pistol away. "Just talkin' to the horse."

"Hmm," Robert said, looking at his brother a little suspiciously. "Would you like to switch for a little while?"

"I think that's a very good idea," Jack said, stopping the horse and swinging off its back, well out of range of its teeth of course.

Robert stopped the coach and came over to Jack and the horse, patting the animal on the nose and talking softly to it.

"I don't know how you can stand that devil," Jack snorted, keeping away from its head.

Robert smiled. "It's all in how you handle them. Kind of like your ship I imagine."

Jack's kohl-lined eyes narrowed indignantly. "I'm grievously offended! How could you compare my lovely Pearl to this mule. They're nothin' alike."

"Just get in the coach, Jack," Robert said tolerantly.

Jack obeyed, climbing in to sit next to Will, but muttering incredulously to himself about his ignorant brother. Mr. Lancaster, who sat across from them, was eyeing Jack's exotic appearance and he commented on it.

"It always gives me a start when I see you like this," he said. "You look so fierce and uncivilized."

Jack grinned. "Pirates generally are."

Mr. Lancaster cleared his throat. "Yes, about that. Robert has informed me that you have quite a record. I have enough influence, though, that I believe I can have you cleared of all your crimes."

Jack brightened. "Really? Norrington would have a seizure. That'd give me an opportunity to do them all over again too."

His father looked pained. "Jack, that's not the point. This would give you an opportunity to start afresh. I would still like for you and Robert to inherit my estate and business. You can become a gentleman again and live in England. Put all that piracy nonsense behind you."

Jack looked reflectively at the ceiling. "Ah, yes, then I could settle down with a fine lady and live happily ever after to the end of my days, is that right?"

"Well, yes, something like that," Mr. Lancaster admitted.

"But," Jack continued, "with no ocean, no ship, no freedom. That's no life for me. Like I told mother yesterday, I'm a _pirate_! It's everythin' I've ever wanted and I wouldn't trade it for all the gold in the world."

His father sniffed, unconvinced. "We'll see."

Will looked sympathetically at Jack and gave his arm a squeeze. Ah well, at least the lad understands, Jack thought philosophically. And I'll be home after another week or so.

They arrived in London a couple days later and immediately checked into an inn near the blacksmith guildhall. It wasn't far from where Parliament convened either and so was suitable for both parties. Soon after they were settled, Will went to the blacksmith guildhall to meet the master there and introduce himself. Jack wanted to go along, but Will pointed out that the pirate's appearance wouldn't exactly be welcome. Sulking slightly after the blacksmith left, Jack contented himself with going through the boy's belongings to see if there was anything of interest.

"Well, well, what do we have here," he said, coming upon a bundle of papers.

Reading through them, Jack discovered with delight that they were love letters to Elizabeth. Those kept him amused for the better part of an hour and he reread the best bits just for fun. When he heard Will coming up the stairs he hastily stuffed them back in Will's bag and flopped down on the bed, assuming an air of boredom.

Peering in through the door, Will spied Jack and came fully into the room.

"Sorry it took so long, Jack. There was a lot they wanted to show me. But I told them I was going to be here for at least a week and that I'd come back every day."

"Really," Jack said, stifling an exaggerated yawn. "Well, now that you've done your business, lad, it's time to have some fun."

"Oh no," Will said, backing away with wide eyes. "I know your definition of fun and it's not something I'm too interested in."

Jack got up from the bed and went over to Will, slinging a companionable arm about his shoulders. "Come now, lad, jus' trust me.

"Trust you, eh?" Will snarled at the pirate as they dodged down an alley, the shouts and whistles of the mob close behind them. "That was my first mistake. I should have learned by now."

"Come now, lad, it's not that bad," Jack said, deftly balancing on the wall at the end of the alley before jumping and landing in a crouch on the other side, lithe as cat.

"Not bad?!" Will asked incredulously as he scrambled over the wall after Jack. "We're being chased by a drunk, bloodthirsty mob who will rip us apart as soon as they catch us, and you call that not bad?!"

"Calm down, Will," Jack said, putting a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You're startin' to sound a mite hysterical."

At that moment, Will would have happily wrung the pirate's neck, but the approaching tumult of the mob warned him that it would have to wait. Far from being worried, though, Jack was in his element. The faint light of nearby lamps and torches reflected off smoky, intense eyes sparkling with excitement and his smile glowed faintly in the dark as he glanced back to assess the progress of their pursuers.

"Let's go!" Will demanded urgently, tugging on Jack's arm.

"All right, I'm coming, whelp," Jack said, glancing back once more before running after Will with smooth strides belying his often swaying walk.

Going to the left, they turned down an alley leading back in the direction they had just come from, intending to double back, but before Will could reach the end of the alley, the pirate had jerked him back against the wall. He was about to turn and berate the captain, but Jack held a finger to his lips and nodded his head forward, indicating that Will should look. Craning his neck to look over Jack's head, Will saw two bulky figures crouched at the alley mouth. If Jack hadn't stopped him, he would have run straight into them.

"Dunno why we 'ave t' wait 'ere," one of them said in a sullen voice.

" 'Cause Pierre wants 'em caught," the other one snarled. " 'Specially that one with the beads."

"This mob's a little bit smarter than I thought," Jack whispered, his warm breath tickling Will's ear. "Seems they've left people at the alley entrances so we can't double back."

"What are we going to do?" Will asked softly.

Jack's eyes tilted upward, noting the ropes that stretched across the alley overhead. They were clotheslines, currently void of any garments and were attached to the sill of each window on both sides of the alley. Will followed his gaze uncomprehendingly, looking back at Jack with a faint crease of confusion between his eyebrows.

"We're goin' up to the rooftops," Jack clarified, "savvy?"

Will looked again at the clotheslines and back at Jack in disbelief. "How exactly do you think you're going to accomplish that?"

"Watch and learn, mate," Jack said, edging slowly back the way they'd came. When they were about in the middle of the alley, Jack climbed atop a refuse pile next to one of the walls and with a small jump, caught hold of the lowest clothesline. He then proceeded to swing back and forth until he had swung high enough to grab the line above and in front of him by hooking his legs over it. Dangling upside down, his hair hanging in disarray about his head, he grinned at Will.

"See how it's done? We'll just go up it like it's a stairway."

"You are mad," Will muttered, climbing onto the refuse pile.

Not bothering to answer, Jack grunted in effort as he swung backwards and arched his back inward to grab the next highest line above him. Fortunately all the ropes were fairly close together, enabling Jack to reach them. Hanging again by his hands, he glanced over his shoulder to see how Will was doing and saw that the blacksmith had made it to the second line. The two brutes at the alley entrance had finally noticed them and were lumbering over with rough bellows of anger. By the time they had climbed on top of the refuse pile, though, Will had made it to the fourth rope and was too far away for them to reach. Fortunately, the two ruffians didn't seem to have any pistols with them and they weren't about to attempt Jack's route, so all they could do was shout ineffectual threats at the escaping pair.

Making it to the highest line, Jack transferred his grip to the edge of the flat rooftop and hauled himself up, lying on his back for a moment before rolling over and peering over the edge to see Will's progress. The young man was almost as quick at it as Jack and within a few moments he had pulled himself onto the roof as well. 

"I think I popped a few vertebrae out of my spine," Will said, rubbing his back and glaring at Jack.

"We escaped, didn't we?" Jack said airily, ignoring the light twinge in his own back.

"No, we're now stuck on a rooftop."

"We're not. See how close these buildings are together?" Jack gestured with his hand. "We'll jus' jump across."

"Fine," Will growled. "Let's just make it back to our inn in one piece. This entire thing is your fault you know. If you hadn't insulted that man we wouldn't be up here hiding from a mob."

Jack looked insulted. "And let him get away with impugnin' me honor? Not likely."

The mention of the mob brought Will's mind back to the earlier words of the two ruffians at the alley entrance and he frowned thoughtfully at the pirate.

"Jack, what did those two down there mean earlier when they said 'Pierre wants them caught, especially the one with the beads'?"

Jack shrugged. "Don't know, mate. There's plenty've people with grudges 'gainst me. Can't recall anyone named Pierre though."

"You had best be on your guard then," Will said worriedly.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "No worries, mate, I'll be fine. No one's gotten the best of me yet."

"Famous last words," Will said, annoyed by the pirate's lack of concern.

"But never mine," Jack replied.

Backing up a little ways, the pirate got a running start to the edge of the roof and pushed off in a flying leap over to the other building, landing in a crouch.

"Come on, Will!" he called, straightening up.

Sighing, Will followed after the pirate, grunting a little as he landed hard on the next rooftop. Jack was already ahead of him on the next roof and the blacksmith hurried to catch up, having fun in spite of himself when Jack turned it into a race to see who could make it to the inn first. They were halted before they reached the inn by the lack of anymore flat rooftops and had to continue their race on the ground. Will made it to the inn first, but Jack claimed that he hadn't won because the pirate had been the first one to make it to the last flat rooftop. They argued about it until they were in their room and finally decided to call it a tie. They were both asleep almost as soon as they went to bed, but Will admitted to himself before he drifted off that it had been kind of fun.

The next evening, after returning from a grueling day of work at the smithy, Will returned the room he and Jack shared and found it empty. That in itself didn't alarm him, but the fact that Jack's tri-cornered hat and pistol were lying on the ground gave him pause. Jack usually didn't go anywhere without his "effects" as he liked to call them and if he did, he usually put them somewhere where they couldn't be harmed. Frowning a little, Will picked them up and placed them on Jack's bed, glancing around the room briefly just in case Jack had left a note somewhere stating his whereabouts. Deciding that maybe Jack had been drunk or in a hurry, Will decided not to worry about it and went to the door, intending to go find Robert. A slight grating noise stopped him and he felt something hard under his shoe. Moving his foot, he looked down and saw one of Jack's rings. Picking up the slender, etched golden band, his sense of danger heightened. Jack would definitely never leave one of his rings on the floor or loose it so carelessly. Something had happened to Jack.

Will hurriedly found Robert and reported his missing brother. Robert thought Will was overreacting and told him to wait until the next morning. If Jack hadn't shown up by then, they would look for him.

"And how would we every find him in this huge city?" Will asked despairingly.

"We can alert the police," Robert said soothingly. "After all, Jack's unique appearance would not make it that hard to identify him."

Will shook his head. "I think something has happened to Jack. We were chased last night by these men who said that someone named Pierre wanted Jack captured."

Robert's gaze sharpened. "Pierre, you say? That sounds familiar."

He frowned and tapped his fingers thoughtfully. "I seem to recall at the last party I attended there was a man named Pierre . . . I think he was with Edward York . . . yes, now that I think about it, he seemed to be a sort of bodyguard confidante of York."

Robert looked suddenly alarmed as he said this, and he grabbed Will's arm tightly.

"Tell me," he said intensely, "was there anything else you heard."

Will shook his head and winced a little at the vise grip on his arm. Robert noticed and let go, too distracted to even offer an apology.

"What's the relevance of York?" Will asked curiously, having noticed Robert's reaction to the name.

Robert had begun to pace up and down the room in agitation and now he turned toward Will.

"Ever since the 12th century the Yorks and the Lancasters have had a running feud. The two houses fought each other for the kingship, weakening each other greatly, and as a result, allowing the Tudors to gain ascendancy. Ever since, each house has blamed the other for their loss of power. The two houses have always worked against each other, but this is the first time that something as drastic as a kidnapping has taken place."*

Will nodded in understanding but was still puzzled by something. "I know Jack is a Lancaster, but how did they find out about him so quickly and why would they kidnap him of all people?"

Robert shook his head grimly "News travels fast. Anyone who saw Jack at the party could have told York. The servants most likely spread it among themselves as well. As to why Jack, he would be a major embarrassment to our house. A notorious pirate a Lancaster? It would disgrace the entire family, no matter how distantly related. Our cousin, Lord Lancaster, who is the head of the house has recently gained power in Parliament and York does not like that at all He might have seen this as an opportunity to disgrace the Lancasters enough that the Yorks will gain ascendancy over us."

Robert slammed a fist into his open hand. "Damn it! I should never have had Jack announced at the party!"

Will laid a comforting hand on his arm. "It's not your fault, Robert. I'm sure York would have found out eventually."

Robert took a deep breath. "You are right. There's no use becoming angry over it now."

"How are we going to rescue Jack?" Will asked eagerly, impatient to be off to help his friend.

Robert looked down. "I don't know."

* The Yorks and the Lancasters did not continue to feud until the seventeenth century. In fact, the two houses were united by marriage a little while after the Wars of the Roses, but for the purposes of my story, their feud is still going strong.


	7. Chapter 7

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 7- In which Jack's kidnapper is revealed.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed, it keeps me writing.

Captain Red Black- I'm glad it meets with your approval. I'd hate to have a shipful of pirates after me ;)

The throbbing of his head was the first thing that woke Jack, and he came to with a faint groan. He must have had some powerful stuff last night because he hadn't had a hangover like this in years. Trying to lift a hand to massage his temples, his eyes snapped open when found to his surprise that his hands were bound together by rope and he was lying on his back on the seat of a coach. Struggling ineffectually at his bonds, he finally gave up and lay still for a moment trying to get his bearings. Think, Jack, he told himself. How did you end up here?

He remembered going up to his room in the evening after getting properly sloshed at a tavern. A funny feeling had crept up on him as he'd opened the door, and he'd learned to trust his instincts so he edged quietly into the room, all senses alert. He'd caught movement out of the corner of his eye and ducked just as a large fist swung through the air where his head and been. Lashing out with his foot, he heard a groan as he scored a hit on his attacker. Preoccupied with the man in front of him, though, he had failed to notice the other one creeping up on him from behind. He recalled an impact on the back of his head and then all was blackness until he woke up here.

"Bloody scoundrels," Jack muttered. "No sense of honor 't all, sneakin' up on a man from behind in the dark."

He didn't know what his captors wanted of him, but he wasn't planning on staying to find out. Since his hands had been so considerately tied in front of him, it was easy to reach into his boot for the dagger he kept there. Transferring the hilt to his teeth, he proceeded to saw awkwardly at the ropes binding his hands. Fortunately the blade was keen and the severed ropes soon fell to the floor. Replacing the dagger in his boot, Jack peered cautiously out the window, unconsciously flexing his hands to increase circulation. The view outside was one of open fields of tall, green grass, the dew drops on them sparkling like diamonds as they were struck by rays of the rising sun. He had obviously been taken out of London, but Jack had no idea where he was heading or how long he'd been unconscious. They could be in Scotland by now for all he knew.

Regardless of the location, Jack wasn't going to stay in the coach another moment. Opening the door, he steeled himself and leapt out, grunting as he impacted with the ground and then tumbled a few feet before coming to a stop. Getting to his feet, he swayed a bit unsteadily and shook his head to clear it. A movement caught his attention and he turned around, his eyes widening as he saw two horsemen who had been following the coach bearing down on him.

"Bloody hell," he sighed.

Wasting no time, he began sprinting towards to one of the small copses of trees that dotted the fields, hearing his pursuers rapidly gaining on him.

"Halt, you!" one of them shouted, but Jack ignored him and continued to run.

Hearing the beat of hooves close behind him, Jack glanced back to see the position of his pursuers. The bay horse on the right was slightly ahead of the chestnut on the left and it gave Jack an idea. Waiting until the horses were almost on either side of him, Jack suddenly flung himself to the right. The rider of the bay cursed as his horse reared and backed up, spooked by the body suddenly thrown in front of it. Jack, meanwhile, had scrambled to his feet again and was off toward the trees. The trick had bought him a few extra seconds, but he didn't think it was going to be enough. And sure enough, the riders were soon on him again, but this time they herded him away from the trees, circling him until he was forced to a standstill. One of them had a pistol pointed at his head, and Jack raised his hands in defeat.

"John, go call the coach back," the man on the bay ordered the other rider, who nodded and wheeled his horse around.

The remaining man dismounted from his horse, keeping the pistol trained on Jack the whole while. His dark hair was, unusually, cropped close to his head and his steel gray eyes were as hard as granite, merciless and unforgiving. The angular planes of his face added to his harsh mien, and a light scar slashing down his left jaw line completed the appearance.

"I thought you might try to escape," he said conversationally. "That's why my companion and I were riding behind."

Jack gave a curt smile. "How intelligent of you."

The man ignored the pirate's words and studied him for a few moments as one would a prize horse they were considering buying, his eyes lingering on the beads in Jack's hair. His gaze was making the captain slightly uncomfortable, but Jack covered it up by examining his fingernails in a nonchalant manner, showing that he was entirely unconcerned with the proceedings.

"So you're Captain Jack Sparrow."

Jack yawned in a bored manner. "Last time I checked."

The man smiled harshly. "But you're not just that are you, Jack Lancaster?"

Jack suddenly became much more interested in the proceedings and his body tensed, but he kept up his free and easy demeanor, shrugging carelessly. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, mate."

The man waved his hand, brushing off Jack's words. "Come now, no need to play ignorant. We know who you are."

"Well that's very nice," Jack said, "but I'm afraid I don't know who you are."

"Pierre," the man said, inclining his head mockingly.

Jack eyed the man thoughtfully. So this is the one who had wanted him captured the other night. Interesting.

A shout from the road caused both of them to look that way and they saw the second rider waving to them, the coach at his side.

"All right," Pierre said, turning to Jack. "Walk up to the coach and if you try anything I'll put a bullet through your head."

Jack smirked. "I'll go, but you won't be killin' me. If you wanted me dead you would have done it already, and somehow I don't think your master would be too pleased about it either."

Pierre's eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I'm working for anyone?"

Jack smirked annoyingly again. "Someone, who obviously has power, wants me, and they're not going to do the dirty work themselves. That's what lackeys like you are for."

Pierre's lip curled in rage, but all he did was shove Jack into the coach and climb in after him.

"What, so eager for my charming company?" Jack drawled, arching an eyebrow.

"No," Pierre snarled. "I've heard about your tricks and I'm going to sit here and watch you the rest of the way."

Jack preened. "Well I know I'm handsome, but I've never had someone want to sit and simply gaze at me."

Jack could hear Pierre's teeth grinding together in an effort to prevent himself from striking the pirate, and Jack grinned. This might turn out to be fun.

Jack spent the rest of the trip throwing jibes and taunts at the increasingly irate Pierre, interspersing it with bouts of dozing when he tired. Finally, in the evening, they arrived at the gates of a large, wooded estate and Jack was allowed to get out of the coach. Wincing slightly at his stiffness, he stretched his arms to relieve some of the tension before he was ushered into the house.

Finding himself in a spacious hallway, he looked about in interest, eyeing the rich looking tapestries speculatively. Most of them were shot through with gold and silver thread and some had gems interwoven amongst the patterns. Some of them also looked quite old and valuable, and Jack bet there were worth a pretty penny. He sighed a little wistfully. Too bad he didn't have the opportunity to "acquire" them.

"Hmm, most certainly a pirate I see," a cultured voice said, interrupting Jack's musings. "The first thing his eye turns to is the gold."

Turning his head, Jack found himself faced with a sandy-haired man with sharp blue eyes, about six feet in height, his mouth quirked in a small smile as he studied Jack.

"And who are you, mate?" Jack asked, an edge of insolence to his voice, disliking the man's patronizing tone.

"Don't speak to the Duke of York in that manner!" Pierre hissed and struck Jack with his open hand.

Jack whipped to face the gray-eyed man, and before Pierre could react, Jack's fist had slammed into his face and the man was flat on his back on the floor, clutching a bleeding nose.

"And you don't every strike me like that," Jack said, quiet menace in his voice.

The gazes of the two men locked for a moment, steel against fire. Then Pierre looked quickly away, unable to stand the fierce, dark eyes of the pirate.

York was watching the performance with a cold smile, and he began to clap mockingly. "Bravo, Lancaster. You have courage, I'll grant you that."

At the words, Jack had turned back to confront York, and Pierre took the opportunity to lunge at the pirate's unprotected back, reaching for his dagger at the same time.

"Now, Pierre," York said, stopping him with a hand. "None of that. He felled you squarely."

Pierre halted obediently, but glared venomously at Jack, a promise of revenge in his eyes. Jack didn't deign to look at him and deliberately turned his back on Pierre, telling the man that he wasn't worth the pirate's notice.

York smiled his cold smile again and turned to walk down the hallway.

"If you would be so kind as to accompany me, Mr. Lancaster."

Jack was very tempted to throw his dagger into York's unprotected back but then remembered it had been confiscated after his escape, so he sighed and followed the man down the hallway. They entered a spacious study, books lining almost every wall, a large window behind the mahogany desk and a fireplace on the right wall crackling with a warm blaze. It was a picture of domesticity and would have been welcoming if not for the cold-eyed man who gazed dispassionately at Jack as the pirate entered the room after him.

"Now, Mr. Lancaster," York said when he was seated behind his desk, Jack across from him. "Shall we begin?"

"The name's Sparrow," Jack corrected, flicking a hand forward in punctuation. "Captain Sparrow, savvy?"

York smiled thinly. "Ah yes, that is the name you are going by now, isn't it? In order to make sure no one knew one of the Lancasters was engaging in piracy I suppose?"

Jack looked at him in puzzlement. "Now mate, why would that make the least bit of difference to me?"

York lips tightened at the familiarity with which Jack addressed him, but he let it pass.

"Perhaps because it would disgrace your family?" he suggested acidly.

Jack knew York was leading somewhere with this, but he couldn't tell what the man was getting at yet, so he just shrugged and pretended to be uninterested.

"Doesn't matter to me. I haven't seen them in over twenty years."

"It wouldn't matter to you if your family was completely destroyed?" York persisted.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Listen, sonny, I don't know what you're tryin' to tell me, but how 'bout gettin' on with it and sparing me the rest of this pointless conversation, eh?"

"I will not accept that tone from you, criminal," York hissed. "You forget who I am."

"Well why don't you tell me?" Jack said, widening his eyes and spreading his arms in a go-ahead gesture.

"Oh yes, I forgot to properly introduce myself, didn't I?" York said, standing up and giving a faintly mocking bow to the pirate. "I am Duke Edward of York, current head of that house."

Jack grinned. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

York looked faintly miffed and settled back into his seat. "I was merely ensuring that you know who you are dealing with."

"I've dealt with far scarier people than you, mate," Jack said, unperturbed. "I'm not worried."

"You should be, Mr. Lancaster," York growled in annoyance, "because unless you cooperate with me, you will be hung in four days time."

"Really?" Jack sighed. "That's starting to become slightly tedious. If I had a gold coin for every time I was supposed to be hung I'd be a richer man than I already am."

York raised an eyebrow. "You are astonishingly arrogant, pirate. Do you know I could have you killed right here and now if I wished? And I would most likely be rewarded for disposing of a notorious criminal."

"But you're not," Jack said shrewdly, "so you obviously want me for something."

York regarded him coolly. "Will you listen to my proposal or not?"

"Fire away, mate." Jack gestured expansively.

Giving a curt nod, York began. "In three days, Parliament will convene and you and I will be there. In front of the House of Lords, you will reveal yourself as Jack Lancaster and detail for them a few of your many crimes. In addition, you will implicate your brother, Robert Lancaster. You will say that he has provided you with funds and the timetables of several shipping companies in order to help you in your crimes. I have found two other witnesses who will corroborate your story and in addition, there are some rather implicating letters written by Robert to you that have been 'found'." His eyes gleamed triumphantly and he smiled maliciously. "This will be a huge blow to the Lancasters, one that I'm sure will take them years to recover from."

Jack wasn't often shocked, but the arrogant assurance of York's words had left him speechless. He realized he was gaping at York and shut his mouth quickly, but his eyes still regarded the man incredulously.

"And what in this world would make you think I would ever agree to that?" he finally managed to get out.

York smiled. "I have some incentive for you, of course. I know pirates do nothing for others unless there is profit involved. First of all, I will ensure that you are not hung and that you are allowed safe passage out of England. Secondly, if you agree to never attack any of my merchant vessels, I will see that you are cleared of all charges, and thirdly, a large monetary amount will be placed in your possession before you leave."

"No," Jack said succinctly, even before York had completely finished his speech. "I refuse to do it."

York looked at him in disbelief. "Just like that? I would have thought a man such as yourself would jump on an opportunity such as this. This would benefit you tremendously."

Jack raised a finger. "Ah, yes, but you see, I'm not the type of man you think I am."

"And what type of man are you?" York asked with heavy sarcasm.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack said as if it were obvious.

York stared at him. "You _are_ mad."

Jack nodded solemnly. "Maybe, but am I really mad or are all the rest of you mad for thinkin' I'm mad?"

York glared at the pirate. "Stop babbling nonsense and give me your answer. Will you do it or won't you?"

"I've already refused and I mean it," Jack said stubbornly.

York sighed, as if at some great inconvenience, and said, "Very well then. I did not think it was going to come to this but you leave me no choice. You have a friend, one William Turner, yes?"

"What about Will?" Jack asked suspiciously.

York eyed Jack narrowly across the desk. "I am sure you would be most unhappy if something were to happen to him, yes?"

At that, Jack leapt to his feet, hand automatically reaching for his sword. Realizing that it wasn't there, he cursed silently and settled instead for placing both hands on the desk and leaning in closely to York.

"No one threatens what's mine," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Not my ship, not my freedom, and not my friends."

York smiled viciously. "Well I just have, and I always carry out my promises. Do what I want, or your friend dies. It is as simple as that. The police would investigate of course, but he is just an unknown blacksmith with no family, a commoner really, and his death will soon be forgotten."

"You bastard," Jack seethed, his hands clenching into fists. "You would destroy the lives of so many people?

York looked pleased. "Why yes I would and I will. And you, my friend, are going to be the instrument of their ruin."

Jack inspected his surroundings with disgust. Nothing. There was literally absolutely nothing in the room. No windows, no furniture, no decorations. It was simply a large box. There was no handle on the inside of the door and from what Jack had glimpsed as he was shoved in, there were at least two locks on the outside of the door.

"I'd like to see even you escape from this," Pierre had growled viciously as he'd shoved the pirate inside.

Jack had to admit that there wasn't much possibility of escape. York it seemed, had done his research and wasn't about to leave anything in the room that Jack might utilize for breaking out. In addition, the pirate could hear a guard pacing back and forth outside his prison. Ah well, he would just have to wait for the opportune moment. Accepting his plight for now, Jack flopped onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible, and promptly fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 8- In which Will does something rash and Jack is taken to Parliament

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed, it keeps me writing.

Captain Red Black- Sorry, there's going to be another cliffy in this one ::hides:: don't shoot me!

DarkAngel- yeah, I like a bit of j/w at times myself, but I like writing j/w friendship and this isn't going to be a slash.

Starlight8 and purplestainedglass- I'm glad you guys think Jack's in character. He's so much fun to write, though he can be difficult at times.

FireSenshi3- Why thank you J 

"He has gone too far!" Robert snarled, pacing up and down in front of his father and Will. "It is one thing to work against each other in Parliament, but it is an entirely different thing to resort to trickery and kidnapping!"

"Calm down, Robert," his father said placatingly. "We'll alert the police and they can deal with York."

"Oh, come now, Father," Robert said in exasperation. "Do you really think York will admit to the kidnapping, let alone release Jack to them? We have to find Jack ourselves."

"No," his father said sternly. "Nothing will be accomplished by rash action. York will be here in three days for the convening of Parliament. I know where he stays. Whatever he is planning on doing with Jack he will most likely implement while Parliament is in session. We can have the police search his house then for Jack and question the servants for any information they might have. York doesn't know that we are aware he has Jack, so he won't be particularly careful with his actions in that regard and we might be able to catch him at something."

Calmed somewhat by the reasonable words of his father, Robert ceased his pacing and leaned against the wall, staring hard at the older man. "Do you really think that will work?"

"It is the best plan we have for now," his father said.

Will, who had been keenly following the exchange, burst out heatedly, "But what about Jack's safety? York might kill him, might already have killed him!"

Robert shook his head. "No, there would be no point to that. Having a Lancaster in his possession will be powerful tool for York and he will use Jack, though I'm not sure for what. He'll need Jack alive."

"So are we agreed on this plan, then?" the elder Lancaster asked, and Will and Robert nodded.

Will, though, had no intention of waiting so long. Any number of things could happen to Jack between now and then, and Will was not going to abandon his friend. It was already the second day since Jack's kidnapping, and the blacksmith was impatient with the amount of time that had elapsed. Evening was falling already, though, and Will knew it would be foolhardy to start his journey in the dark. He would have to wait to begin until tomorrow. Sighing in frustration, he went to his room, making sure he had his saddlebags prepared for the next day, before sitting on his bed and looking dejectedly at the empty bed next to him. He hoped nothing had happened to his friend. He would never forgive Jack if the pirate got himself killed. Although, Will thought, Jack would probably come back as a ghost just so he could haunt me for the rest of my life. Smiling a little at that, Will toyed with Jack's ring that he kept in his pocket, running his finger over the etching. The repetitive motion of this was oddly soothing, and soon he found himself drowsily lying back on the bed, eyelids closing as sleep claimed him.

"Jack is right," Will muttered in irritation as the horse tried to bite him for the fourth time, "you really are a devil."

Will had crept furtively to the stables early that morning, quickly saddled his horse, and was off before either Robert or his father had awakened. Everyone knew where the York estate was located, so it wasn't that hard for Will to get directions. By the early afternoon he was well out of London and enjoying the tranquil scenery. The lush green fields and fresh air were a welcome change from the noisy, dirty city. Unfortunately, though, Will had taken the same horse that Jack had complained about earlier and was finding that the animal was as much of an annoyance as the pirate had said. Despite that, however, the blacksmith had made good progress and was confident he could make it to the York estate within two days or less.

His horse was currently trying to bite his fingers as he untied its bridle from the tree branch and it ended up taking him about ten minutes to finish the job after which time he seriously considered just leaving the horse and going the rest of the way on foot. It would certainly be easier, but not practical, so, grumbling, Will remounted the horse and continued on his way.

It was sheer luck that, an hour later, Will stopped at the Crossroads Inn to get a quick bite to eat. He barely afforded any notice to the coach that was stopped by the roadside as he dismounted from his horse and prepared to tie it up outside, but the sounds that were emanating from the vehicle stopped him in his tracks.

"We're scoundrels and rascals and really bad eggs, drink up me hearties, yo ho, yo ho!"

"Jack!" Will breathed in amazement, forgetting his horse and rushing hurriedly towards the coach.

The cold voice that was heard a second later, though, informed him that Jack was not alone, and he slowed his progress to an unconcerned walk.

"Be quiet!" the voice hissed menacingly. "Or I will silence you myself!"

Will could hear the smirk in Jack's voice. "Oh, I'm sure you'd just love to, but y'know York will shoot you if you damage the goods."

The man's reply was lost in the burst of noise that emanated from the inn as the door opened and another man came out. Brushing quickly past Will as if the young blacksmith were invisible, he made for the coach and paused to speak for a moment to the coach driver. Seemingly satisfied with the driver's answer, he got into the vehicle and the coach started forward at a rapid clip. Thinking quickly, Will scrambled back onto his horse and followed after the coach, keeping his distance so as not to seem as if he were following them. Two short stops later, they were back in London, and Will had to ruefully admit that he should have stayed in London in the first place instead of gallivanting about the countryside. Oh well, at least he had discovered Jack's whereabouts. Now all he had to do was find out where Jack was being taken and then rescue him as soon as possible. 

Staying behind the coach long enough to note the residence Jack was roughly propelled into, he made his way back to the inn where Robert and his father were staying. After leaving his horse with the stable boy, he took the stairs two at a time to Robert's room, eager to share his news. When Robert caught sight of the young blacksmith, his face showed relief before transforming into a scowl.

"Where have you been?" he demanded. "I thought something had happened to you as well!"

"I'm sorry," Will said, too excited to be properly ashamed, "but I've discovered where they've taken Jack!"

Robert had opened his mouth to issue another reprimand, but at this news his face grew hopeful and he gripped Will's arm.

"You have? Are you sure? Where is he?" Robert asked anxiously.

Will gave an abbreviated version of his adventure, discreetly leaving out the part where he had been planning on riding to the York estate and single-handedly rescuing Jack.

"My God, this is perfect!" Robert said triumphantly. "The police will catch York red-handed."

"But won't they arrest Jack as well?" Will wanted to know. "After all, he is a known pirate."

"Most likely," Robert said, unconcerned, "but Father will have him cleared of charges and then York will go to trial for assaulting and kidnapping a Lancaster." His eyes narrowed fiercely. "I swear I will break York's influence once and for all."

Will waited impatiently for Robert's return, pacing agitatedly up and down in his room, the candlelight casting flickering shadows on the walls. He had wanted to go with the police when they searched York's house that evening, but the officer in charge had forbidden it, saying only Robert and his father were allowed. 'No commoners,' the officer's tone seemed to imply, and Will bristled angrily, voicing his opinion that his exclusion was monumentally stupid since he was the one who had seen the house. But the officer had been adamant, so Will stayed behind and had to be content with giving a detailed description of the house to Robert. The young blacksmith actually half-expected Jack himself to show up before Robert, having pulled off one of his miraculous escapes. Two hours later, though, Robert showed up, no Jack in tow and looking despondent.

"Jack wasn't there," he informed Will. "We searched the house from top to bottom. Are you sure you gave us the right information?"

"Of course," Will said in annoyance. "I'm very observant when it comes to objects. I have to be in order to notice even the tiniest flaw in my work."

"You are right, of course," Robert said wearily. "I apologize. It was just very frustrating to have not found Jack. They must have moved him somewhere else. York, it seems, is taking no chances."

"What are we going to do now?" Will asked

Robert shed his coat and sank bonelessly into a chair. "Nothing for now. Parliament convenes tomorrow, and I expect York will make his move then. We can only wait and see what he will do."

That didn't sit well with Will at all. He felt worse than useless, and the inaction made him want to explode. Irritably pushing back a curl that had strayed from its tie, he glared impotently at the wall, as if it were somehow responsible for the entire mess.

"I assume Parliament convenes in the morning," he stated, without looking at Robert.

"Yes, and goes until the evening."

Will grunted in aggravation. That meant he wouldn't hear anything until late tomorrow after he had come back from the smithy. He knew without asking that there was no possibility of him sitting in on the Parliament session. After all, he was a "commoner". Wishing there was someone around he could punch, he settled for ill-temperedly kicking his satchel into the wall. 

Robert was watching him with weary amusement. "I know how you feel, but these are the circumstances and we must accept them."

"I know," Will sighed, "I'm just not used to such a feeling of futility."

Robert laughed. "Ah yes, the fire and idealism of the young. Let me tell you, William, as you become older you will learn that there are many things in life that are outside your control or power to change. It may not seem fair, but that is how the world works."

"Well the world can bloody well go and hang itself," Will retorted, folding his arms across his chest.

"I think you have been around my brother for too long," Robert observed. "That seems to always have been his philosophy on life."

"Well maybe he's onto something," Will muttered, flopping onto his bed. "Sometimes Jack makes more sense than other people who are supposed to be sane."

Jack awakened groggily from unconsciousness, opening his eyes blearily to survey his surroundings. He was propped up against a wall in a bare room, its windows darkened by the curtains pulled across them. Only a sliver of light shone into the dim chamber that Jack had no memory of ever entering. Trying to stand, his head swam and he abruptly sat down again, deciding that wasn't the best idea. Turning his head to his right, he saw a figure leaning against the wall a few feet from him, watching him with a sardonic grin. Focusing his eyes with an effort, he saw that it was Pierre or was it two Pierres? Shaking his head to clear the fuzz that seemed to cloud his mind, he realized that his cheek was stinging as if someone had slapped him. 

"Not you too," Jack groaned.

"What are you talking about?" Pierre growled

"You shlapped me," Jack mumbled. "Everyone's always shlapping me. But yer th' only one in th' room so it must've been you."

Jack was very pleased with this logical deduction and said so to the gray-eyed man. Pierre looked down at him contemptuously.

"Stop your babbling, pirate. I wanted to wake you to see if it had worn off, but it obviously hasn't, and I don't want to hear you until you can speak half-way intelligently." He smirked. "If that's even possible."

Jack slowly processed what the man had said, his befuddled mind finally giving him the answer.

"You drugged me," he slurred accusingly.

"Why, yes, I did. Your company is infinitely preferable when you're unconscious."

"Where am I?" Jack demanded.

"None of your concern," Pierre snapped. "Now will you –

"Pierre." York's smooth voice interrupted him. "Is he ready?"

Pierre bowed to York and motioned with his head to where Jack was sitting. "He's still a bit incoherent, your grace, but it should wear off very soon."

"It had better," York said coldly. "I want him lucid by the time Parliament convenes."

Looking down at Jack with disdain, he nudged the pirate with his foot. "Get up. We are going."

Bracing his arm against the wall, Jack found that this time he could stand up without as much trouble, though his vision still swam a little.

"Help him to the coach, Pierre," York instructed, observing Jack's efforts. "He will not be able to make it by himself."

Pierre sneered in disgust, but wrapped his arm around Jack's shoulders and half-pushed, half-dragged him out to the vehicle. Jack sprawled ungracefully across the seat as Pierre shoved him inside, wondering if he had unknowingly died and ended up in hell. That could be the only explanation for the fact that he seemed to be spending most of his time in a coach, which he had sworn to never ride in again. Of course if he had been in hell, Barbossa would have materialized by now and seeing as there were no signs of the bastard, he would have to conclude that he was still alive. And I am much too drugged, Jack thought, cutting of his random train of thought. He should be focusing on how to escape. Though the way that jewel York wore kept swinging back and forth as the coach moved was rather fascinating. And the way its depths shimmered as though a fire were burning within.

York seemed to notice Jack's preoccupation with his necklace, and he tucked it into his shirt with a glare at the captain.

"Do not even think it, pirate."

Jack smiled disarmingly. "I'm not thinkin' anything, mate."

"Hmm," York said suspiciously, settling back against his seat opposite Jack.

Feeling York's eyes on him, Jack shut his own and relaxed, concentrating on regaining command of his faculties. Within an hour, they had reached a large, classically designed building that Jack assumed was where Parliament convened. By this time, his head had fully cleared and his sharp gaze took everything in as he stepped out of the coach. The vehicle had stopped in a white stone courtyard that was fairly bristling with red-coated soldiers, and he noticed two more coming over to escort York and himself to the Parliament doors. Smothering a sigh, he accepted that the opportune moment for escape still had not arrived and followed the men to the buildings entrance.

"Your grace, would you like me to escort this man elsewhere?" one of the redcoats asked, eyeing Jack dubiously.

"No," York said curtly. "He is going inside with me."

"Very good, your grace," the man said, saluting.

Pushing open the doors, York and Jack stepped into a high-ceilinged chamber with tiered rows of seats lining the room to their right and left. Most of them were already filled with various lords who turned to look at the late arrivers.

"Duke York," said the moderator in some surprise. "We were just about to begin."

York gave a short bow. "I apologize for my tardiness, but there was an urgent matter I had to attend to first."

"And who is this person?" the moderator asked, looking disapprovingly at Jack. "You know that no unannounced observers are allowed."

"This is no observer, my lords," York proclaimed loudly for the benefit of everyone.

Jack was prodded up to the front of the room, a wave of murmurs following his progress as the men caught a glimpse of him. Reaching the speaker's platform at the front of the room, Jack turned around and calmly surveyed all the lords, who stared back at him with varying expressions of disdain, annoyance, and curiosity. Only two faces among the crowd showed fear. Robert's face was tightened with worry as he stared down at Jack, and his father looked white. Tipping his head to them in acknowledgment, Jack pressed a finger to his lips to show that they should be silent for now, and Robert nodded slowly.

Clearly relishing the situation, York stood with his hands behind his back in a posture of total control and authority.

"My lords," he said, when the murmurs had quieted a little, "may I present Jack Lancaster?"


	9. Chapter 9

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 9- In which Jack's identity is revealed to Parliament, and he's thrown into prison.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed, it keeps me writing. Oh yeah, and as a plug for my other story, please go read it! It's short and the idea came into my head so I had to write it even though I was in the middle of this.

AriannaMalfoy- Thanks J Yeah, I noticed his manner of speech in the movie too. He sounded just a little too refined to be a regular pirate.

Darkangel- My sister bites too, and she's threatening to come after me if I don't finish the story soon. I let her read the chapters before I post them. Now I'm going to have two of them after me! ::runs away in terror::

Captain Red Black- It's noting personal, really! It's just I have to find a good place to stop at the end of a scene, and sometimes I have to cut the chapter off in the middle of a scene or else it'll get too long. How about I send you some rum as compensation?

At York's words, a hubbub ensued, with several lords leaping to their feet and demanding what kind of game York thought he was playing. Above them all rose the voice of Charles Lancaster, Jack's first cousin and the Duke of Lancaster.

"York!" he thundered. "I have had enough of your underhanded tricks! I will not tolerate you bringing this ruffian before us and claiming him to be my cousin!"

Jack, personally, was tired of getting the same reaction every time he was announced before a group of people. It would be much easier if people would just accept his identity from the beginning so he wouldn't have to go through long, tiresome explanations.

York, however, was listening to the commotion with a small smile on his face, and after letting it go on for a moment, he raised his hand for silence.

"I see that you are all skeptical, and I know you will not take my word that he is indeed Jack Lancaster. You will, however, believe his father if he corroborates my story. I call on Robert Lancaster the First to stand."

Jack's father slowly stood up as if a great weight rested on his shoulders, but he faced York squarely, no sign of emotion on his face.

"Do you Robert Lancaster swear upon the Holy Bible and everything you hold dear that you will tell the truth?"

The older man hesitated for a moment and then said carefully. "I will."

York's eyes flashed triumphantly and he leaned forward slightly as if doing so would put more pressure upon the elder Lancaster.

"Is this man beside me your son?"

The silence in the room was absolute as everyone waited for Jack's father to give his answer. His gaze locked with Jack's and seemed to be pleading forgiveness, but Jack wouldn't meet his eyes, knowing he was going to have to commit his own betrayal very soon.

"He is," Lancaster said finally.

A hundred voices started speaking at once, questions and accusations flying about.

"Quiet! Quiet!" the moderator bellowed. "We will have order!"

York seemed annoyed by these interruptions of his proceedings and he glared fiercely about the room. When relative silence had again descended, York spoke again.

"Now, my lords, I am sure you are wondering why I have brought this man before you today. This _is_ Jack Lancaster, but for many years now, he has gone by the name Jack Sparrow."

A few murmurs started up at the name, but York ignored them and continued.

"I see that some of you have heard the name before. This is the same Jack Sparrow that the London Times has reported on. The notorious pirate who is wanted throughout the Caribbean by three different countries."

"What proof do you have of that?" Charles Lancaster demanded. "You have always had a grudge against the Lancasters, York. This sounds like another one of your plots."

York sneered. "You want proof, Lancaster? Here it is."

Grabbing Jack's arm, he shoved up his sleeve, revealing the pirate brand and the sparrow tattoo. "Come and see it."

Charles rose from his chair and stalked over to Jack and York, glaring menacingly at the latter. Inspecting Jack's arm, his eyes widened in disbelief. Slowly raising his gaze, he looked into Jack's dark eyes. "How –?"

Jack shrugged. "Sorry, old chum. It's me."

The stunned look on Charles face as he sat down informed the other lords of the veracity of York's claims.

"What is it you want, Duke York?" the moderator asked sternly. "You wish to have him hung?"

"It is not my wish, but the law that says he is to be hung," York said, smoothly, "however, I am not finished. Jack is not alone in his crimes. His brother, Robert, has for some time been transferring funds and shipping timetables to Jack in order to help him in his piracy. In return, Robert has been receiving a share of Jack's plunder, which I'm sure explains the increase in wealth that family has lately seen."

At that accusation, Robert leapt to his feet in outrage, his fists clenched.

"What?!" he roared. "How dare you accuse me of that, York! I have never done any such thing!"

York smiled. "Ah, but your brother says otherwise, and I have here in my possession some rather implicating papers."

He indicated that Jack should speak, and the pirate took a deep breath, not looking at his brother.

"It's true that Robert has been sending me funds and timetables," Jack said tonelessly. "With the information he's sent me I've been able to plunder twice as many ships as I would normally, and I've been sendin' him a third of me loot."

Interrupting before the inevitable furor could occur, York flourished his hand triumphantly. "See, my lords? It is as I have said."

"This is not the place for this type of thing, Duke York," the moderator interrupted reprovingly. "These accusations are to be aired in a court of law and a trial held accordingly."

"Yes, of course. I apologize," York said, bowing slightly. "I am afraid I have been a bit overzealous in my quest to see justice done." He paused. "The Lancaster pirate, of course, does not need a trial as his guilt is branded upon his skin."

"That is true," the moderator conceded.

"Guards!" he called to the two soldiers flanking the door. "Throw this man in prison."

"And his hanging?" York asked hopefully.

"It may be tomorrow for all I care," the moderator said impatiently. "I would just like to get on with Parliamentary business, if that is all right with you, your grace?"

Hearing the sarcastic tone in the man's voice, York bowed silently and withdrew to his seat, while Jack found himself grabbed by either arm and dragged towards the doors.

"Wait a moment!" Robert shouted, on his feet again. "I protest! This is outrageous! You cannot hang my brother!"

The moderator sent him a stern look. "Lord Lancaster, I suggest you sit down. Brother or not, this man is a pirate and will be hung accordingly. I am sorry for your family, but this is the law. And you too are facing grave accusations of piracy, so you should not make it worse for yourself."

Robert was not to be deterred and opened his mouth to reply indignantly, but a soft touch on his arm stopped him. He glanced next to him and saw his father, looking about ten years older, staring at Robert with a pleading look on his face.

"Please, Robert, just sit down," he whispered. "Don't make it worse."

Closing his eyes to master his emotions, Robert squeezed his father's hand in reassurance before slowly sitting down, showing his great disapproval of the whole affair.

Jack found himself transported away from the Parliament house to a gray, dank looking building where he was dragged down two flights of stairs before being unceremoniously shoved into a cell.

"I don't s'pose I could get a little somethin' to eat?" he called to the retreating soldiers, who ignored him and disappeared up the stairs.

He rubbed his complaining stomach, which hadn't been fed in at least two days other than that drugged whiskey he'd been given, and that had definitely hurt him more than helped him. He doubted he'd be seeing too much in the way of food around here, though. Jailers tended not to be too concerned about the comfort of their prisoners. To take his mind off his hunger, he inspected his surroundings with a practiced eye, looking for anything that might be to his advantage. There was a stone wall behind him with a small barred window (just to offer the prisoners a tantalizing glimpse of freedom), a hard packed dirt floor that smelled of refuse and other unmentionables, and the other three walls of his cell consisted of vertical metal bars. The cell block extended about six cells on either side of him. All in all, it was very similar to the other cells he'd had the privilege of inhabiting for short periods of time, though this prison seemed to be much more extensive. As he had been pushed down the stairs, he'd seen corridors and other stairways leading off to other places, and from one stairway leading deeper into the bowels of the prison, he'd heard screams of intense agony. 

The soldier on his right had jerked his head to the stairway and said, "That's where they send the uncooperative ones."

Jack made a mental note to himself to be very cooperative. He had no intention of becoming acquainted with the various instruments of torture he was sure were housed there. But by the same token, he wasn't planning on letting himself be hung.

Walking slowly around his cell, he tested both the metal bars and the bricks, looking for any weaknesses in the structure that could be used to his advantage. Unfortunately, everything seemed to be sturdy and stood up to his probing. As he tested the last bar on the right cell wall, though, something caught his eye in the accommodations next to his own. There was a jagged hole in the stone wall where the barred window had formerly been and the some of the bars on the cell door were twisted and broken. It looked as though a cannonball had come through the window and gone right through the cell door.

"That's very interesting," he murmured, studying the breach.

It looked large enough for his body to fit through, if only he could find a way to get over there.

That evening, York came to pay Jack a visit and found him slumped indolently against back of his cell, his eyes half closed in contemplation, forearms resting on the top of his raised knees. When York came to stand in front of his cell, he didn't even bat an eyelid, acting as if the man were invisible. York stared hard at him, willing him to look up and acknowledge the lord, but Jack coolly ignored him, and as the minutes stretched on, it was York who broke first.

"What's wrong, Lancaster? No pleading for mercy? No raging that I broke my word?"

Jack finally deigned to look at him, arching an eyebrow. "First of all, I don't beg for mercy, not like it would get me anywhere anyway, an' second, I'm a pirate. I know dishonest men like you, an' you can always trust a dishonest man to be dishonest."

York's lip curled. "In that case, why did you implicate your brother? Aren't you worried that now you have done your job I will have Turner killed?"

Jack smiled and shook his head. "There wouldn't be any point in that, now would there? All you wanted to use him for was blackmail, and now I've done what you wanted, so it'd be a waste of time and effort to kill him. He's worthless now, and no threat to you."

"Perhaps, but maybe I will have him killed just to spite the Lancasters," York said, toying with the pirate, as he really had no intention of killing Turner. He didn't like unnecessary messes.

Jack refused to rise to the bait, though, and closed his eyes again, signaling that the interview was at a close. The pirate's impertinence enraged York. Here the man was sitting in a cell and he acted as if he were holding court!

"I hope you enjoy your last few hours of life, pirate," he spat. "I will derive great pleasure from watching you swing tomorrow morning."

"So glad I can provide entertainment and meaning to other's lives," Jack responded without opening his eyes.

York gave thin-lipped smile. "We will see how flippant you are tomorrow with the noose around your neck."

Drawing something from under his cloak, the lord tossed it into the cell.

"Think of it as a parting gift," he said mockingly. "Be sure to give it to your brother if you ever see him again."

Throwing his cloak over his shoulder, York strode out of the dungeons without a second glance. Waiting until the lord had left, Jack opened his eyes and peered at the object that had been thrown to him. A full white rose with vicious looking thorns entwined with a thornless, crushed red rose. Jack rolled his eyes in disgust. And people said he was dramatic.

Jack was dozing lightly when a faint tapping on his window bars startled him to wakefulness.

"Jack, are you awake?" a hushed voice came.

Jack squinted against the bright moonlight streaming into his cell and whispered back, "Will, lad, is that you?"

"Aye," Will said. "Robert couldn't come because the guards might see him, but they didn't notice me Are you all right?"

"Just magnificent," Jack returned. "All the comforts a man could want."

He could hear the smile in Will's voice as the blacksmith responded, "Well, at least I can tell you're unhurt since you're still able to make sarcastic remarks." His tone sobered as he added, "You are to be hung in the morning, you know. York has influence enough that he managed to have it scheduled for tomorrow."

"I know." Jack grinned. "He paid me a visit this evening. Oh, and he gave me a gift for Robert." 

Stooping down, Jack felt around for where he had placed the two roses and yelped as he impaled his finger on one of the thorns.

"Are you all right?" Will asked anxiously.

"No worries, mate," Jack said, gingerly picking up the roses. "Just stabbed meself is all."

Straightening up and thrusting the flowers through the window he said, "Here, give these to Robert, then tell me what he says."

"Why did you say those things about Robert today, anyway?" Will asked as he accepted the roses.

"Well," Jack leaned a little closer to the window. "Y'see, York threatened to have you killed if I didn't comply with his little scheme, so I figured it was best just to go along for the time bein'. The Lancasters have lots of friends in Parliament, and I doubt York's little scheme will hold water after its given a thorough investigation. Robert will survive it, but you wouldn't survive assassination."

"The bastard!" Will swore angrily. "I can't believe he used me against you!"

"Actually, I'm quite certain his parents were bound in wedded bliss when he was born," Jack said thoughtfully, "but I could be wrong."

He smirked. "Now wouldn't _that_ be a scandal."

"Jack, be serious," Will entreated him. "We need to formulate an escape plan."

Jack flashed a smile. "Don't worry, I've got one all ready. All I need for you to do is get me a bar 'bout four feet in length. It can be anythin', but a straight metal one would be best."

"What do you need a bar for?" Will asked in puzzled tones.

"Don't question your captain, lad, just bring it," Jack said sternly.

"May I remind you, you are not my captain," Will said with a smile in his voice, "but I'll get it for you as soon as I can." A pause. "I've got to go. One of the guards is coming this way."

"Preferably by tomorrow morning!" Jack called after him. "Otherwise it's not much use to me!"


	10. Chapter 10

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 10- In which Jack escapes (of course) and leads the soldiers on a merry chase

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Thanks very much to everyone who reviewed, it keeps me writing. Oh yeah, and as a plug for my other story, please go _READ_it! It's short and the idea came into my head so I had to write it even though I was in the middle of this.

__

Sorry I haven't done an update in like three weeks, but school's been insane and my term paper was due last week. In addition to all my homework I also had a symphony concert last weekend and soccer games every weekend, so I've basically had about 10 minutes of free time in the past three weeks. Hopefully school will calm down a bit now and I'll be able to finish up this story. Also I will try and post another chapter this weekend to make up for the shortness of this one. If you have the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack I suggest listening to tracks 3 and 4 while reading this'cause they go well with the chase scene.

Captain Red Black- ::staggers forward and drops barrels of rum:: How's this? I brought a whole shipful to make up for the lack of recent updates. Your crew hasn't mutinied yet have they? I hope I'm not in imminent danger of losing my life J 

Ripley- yeah, that would be fun. Maybe in a sequel, eh?

Karen- Wow, that has got to be one of the best reviews I've ever gotten! Thank you so much for taking the time to write that, I'm flattered. I was going for dramatic and funny and I'm happy you think I pulled that off. I'm glad you felt the characters were well rounded because sometimes I felt I wasn't getting in depth enough on them, especially Robert. But the whole thing with writing is the more you write the better you get, so I'll keep writing and hopefully improve J 

Early the next morning, Jack was awake and alert, waiting for Will to bring him the promised item. As the sun rose higher above the horizon, Jack began to become impatient, wondering what had detained the lad. As he examined the cell next to him for probably the fifth time that morning, he heard a metallic thunk behind him and turned around to see a short, solid, though slightly bent, bar of metal.

"Will that do?" the blacksmith's anxious voice came through the window. "I couldn't get into the smithy until this morning because it's locked and guarded, and I found this in the scrap heap."

"It'll do just fine, lad," Jack reassured him, eagerly snatching it up. "What'd Robin say 'bout the gift York had for him?"

Will laughed. "A string of unmentionable words followed by several choice comments on York's ancestry and ending with a few dire threats."

Jack grinned in delight. "Ha, I thought so. Now get on with ye. I'll be out in a few seconds."

"If you say so," Will said dubiously. "Just so you know though, if it doesn't work, Robert and I will be out here to rescue you."

Jack smirked. "Goin' to try your fancy sword throwin' trick again? Last time I almost strangled while you were busy dancin' around with the executioner."

"I rescued you, didn't I?" Will said indignantly. "It's not like you suffered any lasting injury."

"Ah, but I did," Jack said mournfully, as he unwrapped his sash from around his waist. "My lovely singin' voice was permanently damaged."

Will snorted. "That's no great loss."

"Away with ye," Jack growled, making shooing motions. "Go make yourself useful."

"Yes sir, captain, sir," Will said mockingly and disappeared from the window.

"Impudent whelp," Jack muttered, grabbing the dishes of water and thin gruel that had been shoved into his cell last night.

Careful not to waste a drop, he poured the liquids onto his sash, making sure it was thoroughly damp. Throwing the dishes onto the floor, he threaded his sash around two of the bars so both ends were hanging in his cell. After retrieving the metal rod from the floor, Jack tied both ends of the cloth tightly to the middle of it and began twisting the bar as if it were the wheel of his ship. Grunting with effort, he twisted, using all the strength in his wiry body, until, with a screeching groan, the two metal bars of the cell bent towards each other, leaving a space on either side. Letting go of the rod, Jack eased himself through the space in the bars, grateful that his frame was slender enough to slide through without much problem. Once he was in the other cell, the pirate made straight for the irregular hole in the wall, heaving himself up with his arms and then wriggling through to the outside. 

It was just his luck, of course, to emerge right as a small guard of soldiers was walking by.

Catching sight of him, the officer in the lead pointed his sword at the pirate and bellowed, "Catch him! A prisoner is escaping!"

Taking off down the street to the left, Jack made for the gallows he could see at the end and the large crowd that was gathered in front of it. Hopefully the crowd would both hide him and slow down the pursuit of the redcoats. Reaching the crush of people, the soldiers a few feet behind him, Jack plunged in, ignoring the indignant exclamations of the people as he shoved his way through them.

"Move out of the way!" the soldiers behind him growled, shoving bodies out of the way with their guns.

Weaving his way to the front of the crowd, Jack jumped onto the scaffold, glancing wildly around for Will.

"Jack, over here!" he heard Will call to his left.

Turning to the blacksmith, Jack was just in time to catch the belt holding his sword and pistol that had been thrown at him. Securing it quickly around his waist, he took a running jump and grabbed onto the top bar from which the noose dangled, swinging himself up so that he straddled it. Getting to his feet, he ran to the end of the wooden spar and jumped onto the roof of the building behind the scaffold, ignoring the whine of bullets around him as the soldiers fired.

"Jack, make for the docks!" he heard Will yell before he dropped down from the building and landed in the bed of a wagon that was hauling hay.

"Oi, guv! Whaddye think yer doin'?" the man driving the wagon sputtered indignantly.

Not bothering to reply, Jack scrambled out of the wagon bed and took off down the street toward the docks. The soldiers were just rounding the corner of the building and caught sight of him darting down the street.

"After him!" the officer bawled. 

Jack knew he was no longer in any danger from their guns since the soldiers wouldn't fire on the large number of civilians that were also on the street. That didn't mean they couldn't catch up to him, though, and some of the younger, swifter redcoats were beginning to gain on him. Running by the stalls of fruits and vegetables that were set up along the street, Jack paused momentarily to kick out one of the poles supporting a fruit stand and the whole thing collapsed, sending the goods rolling into the street. Doing the same to a fish stand and a poultry stand, he created abundant confusion as the soldiers tripped on the food, the stall owners tried to retrieve their goods, and people crowded around to see what the commotion was about. Satisfied that the soldiers would be sufficiently slowed, Jack continued running in the direction of the docks, not slowing his pace.

Once he had reached the docks, the pirate paused for a moment, not sure why Will had wanted him to come here. Walking past each ship docked, he looked for signs of Robert or Will, but couldn't see them anywhere. Continuing on, a few minutes later he heard again the sounds of pursuit. Looking quickly over his shoulder, he caught sight of the soldiers.

"Bloody hell, they don't give up," he muttered.

Some sixth sense told him to duck, and he did so, turning and lashing out with his fist at the same time, hitting a redcoat squarely in the groin. The man dropped his gun and doubled over with a groan. Three other soldiers were not far behind him, and Jack realized that some of his pursuers must have come around from another direction to try and cut him off. A load of cargo that was hanging far above the dock caught his eye, and he saw that the rope holding it went over a spar and then was attached to a metal ring on the dock. Taking hold of the rope, Jack slashed it cleanly and grinned as he was yanked swiftly upwards and the cargo came crashing down on top of two of the soldiers. As his side of the line was about to go over the spar, Jack quickly let go and grabbed onto the beam. 

Hauling himself atop it, he balanced precariously on the edge, gauging the distance between himself and the rigging of the ship anchored next to the dock with a practiced eye. Steeling himself, he leapt outward through the air and plummeted toward the aft deck of a docked ship, wildly grasping at the rigging. He snagged one and the rope burned his hands as his fall was abruptly arrested, his body swinging back and forth. The surprised shouts of several people on the ground who had seen his daring leap caused him to glance below him. The soldiers were standing on the plank connecting the ship to the dock, gesturing wildly to a man who appeared to be refusing to allow them on. 

One redcoat pointed upwards to where Jack dangled from the rigging, and the man's mouth dropped open as he looked upward. The soldiers took advantage of the man's surprise to shove him to the side and jump onto the deck, raising their guns in preparation to fire.

Shimmying quickly down the taut line he was clinging to, Jack caught hold of a loose rope and swung forward, sliding down it as he did so. When he was close enough, he let go of the rope and hit the deck at a run making straight for the soldiers who were between him and the forward part of the ship. Surprised by this maneuver, the soldiers didn't have time to fire before Jack was upon them, sword in hand. 

Barreling down two of them, he slashed quickly at another who stabbed at him with a bayonet and then continued sprinting toward the stern. Reaching his destination, he leapt on top of the railing and did a swan dive into the water, surfacing and swimming strongly toward the ship anchored a few yards away. The sharp report of guns firing convinced him it would be best to be as difficult a target as possible, so he took a deep breath and plunged beneath the water. He partially opened his eyes to get a glimpse of the ship ahead of him, ignoring the sting of the salt. He glimpsed the dim outline of the ship's hull in front of him and the anchor line coming out from it. Surfacing, he swam the last few feet and took hold of the anchor line. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up hand over hand, sodden clothing weighing him down. Reaching the top, he tipped over the railing onto the deck, startling the few sailors standing nearby.

"Don't mind me, mates," he said, waving a hand at them.

Getting to his feet, he staggered forward, nearly tripping over a barrel that was lying on its side. Making for the jetty, he went down the plank that connected the ship to the dock, glancing over to see that the soldiers were also exiting the other ship to his left. Where is that blasted boy? he thought testily, turning to the right and continuing to run down past the line of docked ships, looking for signs of Will. 

"Jack! Over here!"

Jack's head snapped in the direction of the voice and he saw Will and Robert waving at him from the deck of a small schooner.

"Finally," he muttered, hurrying in their direction.

As he reached the schooner's dock, though, he was abruptly halted by the prick of a blade at his neck.

"You're not going anywhere," a cold voice said.

Turning his body slowly so he was facing his attacker, Jack's eyes narrowed.

"How'd you get here?"

Pierre smirked. "I followed your young friend, believing, correctly, that you would come to him."

He dug the point of the blade into Jack's neck to emphasize his point, drawing a trickle of blood. "And now I'm going to kill you."

"Not likely," Jack growled as he took a quick step back and dropped flat onto his back, kicking his feet into Pierre's stomach.

The gray-eyed man staggered backward with an oomph of surprise and Jack scrambled back to his feet, unsheathing his own blade. By this time, though, the pursuing soldiers had caught up with him and surrounded him in a half circle, their guns leveled at him. Their attention was diverted from Jack, though, when a crowd of roaring sailors suddenly descended on them from the schooner, waving knives and pistols. With the redcoats thus occupied, Jack lunged for Pierre, their blades meeting in a ring of steel.

"I've been looking forward to killing you, pirate," Pierre hissed.

"Well you're goin' to be lookin' for a lot longer, then." Jack grunted, parrying the man's thrust. "Because I'm not plannin' on lettin' the likes of you do me in."

Rolling under a swing that had been aimed at his chest, he tumbled to the side and into a crouch, raising his sword to block the blade descending toward his head. Rising slowly to his feet, he forced Pierre's sword back with his own. Breaking away, the two combatants warily circled each other, looking for an opening. Twisting his body to the side, Jack barely avoided a thrust that would have pierced his stomach, retaliating with a quick strike that drew blood on Pierre's arm. 

Jack gave a feral grin. "First blood goes to me, mate."

Pierre glared and attacked again in earnest. Their blades moved almost faster than the eye could see as they skillfully thrust and parried, Jack slowly gaining the advantage over his less nimble opponent. Finally, Jack feinted quickly to the left, Pierre moving with him, and the gray-eyed man was too slow to prevent the blow as Jack reversed the direction of his movement. The pirate thrust his blade cleanly through Pierre's heart and the man fell to his knees with a gasp, sword falling from his nerveless fingers.


	11. Chapter 11

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 11- In which Jack and company leave England with the aid of an old friend.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to all, hope it was good for everyone. I know I ate so much I felt like I couldn't move! Got together with some family friends, though, and it was fun.

Ripley- How'd you know I was from California? :) but yeah, those fires were nasty, though I'm in central California so we didn't get any of that. Writing as a career? Hmm. I'll have to see. I'm flattered that you think I could do that.

Captain Red Black- No!!! Don't hand me over to Norrington! I'll die of unrequited boredom. Jack, on the other hand . . . yummy. If you happen to run into him, send him my way.

Panther- don't worry I'll finish it. I think there's only going to be one more chapter after this, two at the most. Soccer is over now, though, so maybe I'll have some more time. . . yeah right. Free time? What's that? :)

Claire- thanks for reviewing. I'm glad you like it!

Looking grimly down at the dead man, Jack drew his sword out and wiped it off on Pierre's shirt. The redcoats had been driven off by the superior numbers of the sailors and Jack made his way to the gangplank. A hand descended on his shoulder and he spun reflexively, blade raised.

The man who had touched him raised his hands. "Whoa, Sparrow, you wouldn't kill you're old mate, would ya?"

Jack peered closely at him and his eyes widened in recognition and surprise. "Johnny, you old rogue, it's really you! What're you doin' here?"

"Helpin' t' rescue you, mate," Johnny said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Couldn't let those buggers hang you."

"Where'd you get the ship?" Jack asked, looking around as they boarded the schooner.   
"Looks like you've turned respectable."

Johnny smiled proudly. "Got enough money to settle down with me wife and open a merchant business."

Jack nodded approvingly. "Looks like you've done well, Johnny."

"Heard you've been doin' well yourself," Johnny said knowingly. "Captain of the Black Pearl, the fastest ship in the Caribbean. Takin' in more plunder than any other pirate."

"Please, don't inflate his ego anymore," a voice said from behind them. "He's had enough people talk about his exploits."

The two men turned to find Will standing there, Robert at his side.

Jack scowled at them. "There you are, you two good for nothing rascals. 'Run for the docks, Jack' you say without tellin' me where on the docks. You expected me to find you 'midst all these boats?"

Will shrugged sheepishly. "There wasn't time to give you specific directions."

Jack sniffed. "Well that's the last time I let you help me escape."

In the meantime, the sailors had quickly weighed anchor and hoisted the sails and the schooner was rapidly moving away from the docks.

"We're jus' goin' to take this ship a little ways 'round Ireland and then we'll transfer you to a proper ship to take you back to the Caribbean," Johnny explained to Jack. "One of my ships is scheduled to leave for there today."

Robert looked away unhappily. The prospect of losing his brother again so soon after he had found him left Robert feeling dispirited. He knew Jack couldn't stay in England, though, since the authorities would be looking for him. Still, Robert couldn't help but make one last plea.

"Jack, you can stay," Robert urged. "Just hide until this whole thing blows over. You know that York's accusations against me will prove to be unfounded, and people will have forgotten about you. You can stay with me at my estate."

Jack looked at him pityingly. "Robin, that wouldn't work an' you know it. People might forget about the accusations against you, but never me. I'm a scandal. The Lancaster pirate is going to be the gossip in the highest circles. Besides, I'd never fit in here. You might have convinced yourself that I could become an English gentleman, but you know in your heart I'd never do that."

Robert sighed in resignation. "I know, but I had to try. I just found you Jack. I wish we did not have to part so soon."

"Well it's not like it has to be permanent," Jack said offhandedly. "If you ever happen to visit the Caribbean again, why we just might run into each other."

Robert gave a half-smile. "You may be correct, brother mine. I just might have to take a few vacations there."

"You can stay with Elizabeth and me," Will offered. "We're to be married soon, and then we'll have our own house."

Robert nodded his head. "Thank you for the kind offer."

"An' I'd be happy to transport you," Johnny added. "I'll help any friend of Jack's."

Jack cleared his throat. "That reminds me, Johnny. How'd you know meet up with these two?"

Johnny ran a hand through his golden-brown hair. "Well, y'see, I actually first met your brother when he stopped by to make an order. I noticed his name was Lancaster and told him I'd served with a Lancaster on board a ship."

"Johnny was the one who alerted me to your existence," Robert cut in. "Without him I might have never known that you survived the shipwreck."

Johnny nodded. "So yesterday, your brother comes and tells me you're goin' to be hung in the mornin'. Couldn't let an old mate of mine hang, so I agreed to help get you out of England."

Jack clasped the former pirate's arm. "And I'm much obliged to ye, Johnny."

"Well there's one way you could repay me," Johnny said blandly.

Jack smirked. "Ha, you might've turned respectable, Johnny, but you're still a pirate at heart."

Johnny grinned. "No, just takin' advantage of the resources at hand, Sparrow. So here's what I'm askin'. You don't raid any of my merchant ships, and you give a friendly warnin' to other pirates to stay away."

Jack waved his hand. "Done. I thought maybe you were goin' to ask for somethin' more substantial than that."

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you're feelin' generous . . ."

"I'm sure the terms you've given will more than repay the service you've done me," Jack said hurriedly.

Johnny laughed. "Don't worry, I won't ask for any of your swag, mate. Wouldn't want to take your hard-earned plunder."

Will snorted at that and Jack turned to eye him narrowly. "I wouldn't be so scornful if I were you, Mr. Turner. I give you a year, two at the most, before you start gettin' restless an' end up back on me ship."

"Turner?" Johnny interrupted incredulously, his eyes wide. "Bootstrap Bill's son?"

"The one and only," Jack said with a flourish of his hand. "Don't tell me you two haven't been introduced yet?"

"We were in a bit of a rush," Will pointed out. "Not too much time for introductions."

Jack rubbed his hands together. "We'll have to remedy that, then. Johnny, may I present Mr. William Turner II. Will, this is my mate from the _Diarmid_, Johnny Avery."

Johnny shook his head in amazement. "Who would've thought it? Bootstrap's son. He used to talk about you sometimes when we were on the _Diarmid_."

Interested to meet another person who had known his father, Will asked, "So you were friends with my father?"

"Aye," Johnny said. "He looked after Jack an' me since we were the two youngest on the ship. Jack an' me looked out for each other, too, and that's how we became mates."

Letting Will and Johnny continue their conversation about Bootstrap, Jack drifted over to where Robert was standing, gazing at the English coastline, parts of which were obscured by fog.

Following his gaze, Jack said softly, "You know it never would've worked for me there, Robin. We live in two different worlds."

Robert sighed. "I know, but I can't help but wonder how different it would have been if you hadn't been swept off the ship and picked up by pirates. We could both be living happily in England right now, jointly managing Father's business now that he's gotten older."

Jack shook his head. "You're livin' in a dream, Robin. Even if I had survived, my temperament wasn't suited to your type of life. I would've rebelled and gone off sooner or later."

Robert looked sideways at his brother, taking in again the beaded hair, the kohl-accented eyes, the tattoos, the constant, fluid gesturing. Jack had a demented grace about him that Robert knew would be completely out of place in strait-laced English society.

"Well," Robert said with sudden resolution, "if you cannot come to my world, then I'll go to yours."

Jack gave a half-smile. "I'll turn you into a pirate yet."

Robert laughed. "You seem determined to turn all your non-criminal acquaintances into pirates."

Jack shook his head. "Only you and Will. One can never have enough Lancaster and Turner blood. Wish I could have a whole crew of them."

"I had better start producing children then," Robert said mock seriously, "so you can get a start on your crew."

"That'd be good of you, mate," Jack said absent-mindedly.

He seemed to suddenly remember something of import and started digging around in the pockets of his coat which Will had returned to him.

"I'm sure I put it in here," he muttered.

"Ah-ha!" he said triumphantly, his hand emerging with the sought for prize.

Robert stared in disbelief. "Where did you get that?!"

Jack looked smug. "Just a little somethin' I lifted from our good friend York. I think of it as compensation for my treatment by him."

"That's one of York's most prized family jewels!" Robert sputtered.

"Oh is that what it is?" Jack said unconcernedly. "I didn't know. Makes it even better then."

He held up the flawless emerald necklace to let some of the cloud-muted sunlight shine through it and peered closely at the faintly glimmering jewel, its gold chain wrapped around his slender fingers. He nodded his head in satisfaction.

"Very nice. Now, should I keep it or sell it?"

"You should not have stolen that," Robert said sternly, making a feeble attempt to be the voice of honesty, though he really couldn't care less.

Jack smiled winningly. "It's not stolen, just on permanent loan."

The corner of Robert's mouth twitched, but all he said was, "You have a justification for everything, don't you?"

Before Jack could reply, Johnny's voice carried to them from across the deck.

"Ho, Sparrow, where'd you steal that bauble? It better not be from anyone I know."

Jack turned and grinned at his friend. "No worries, Johnny. The man who formerly owned this wouldn't think you fit to clean his boots."

"I hope you took more from 'im then," Johnny said, striding over to Jack to get a better look at the jewel, Will trailing behind him.

Jack sighed. "Alas, there wasn't any time, 'else I would've robbed the bastard blind."

Jack let the necklace slide from his fingers into Johnny's open hand and looked expectantly at Will, who remained silent.

The pirate raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong, Master Turner? I was expecting some platitudes 'bout how wrong it was of me to steal something like this off someone."

Will looked up from his examination of the emerald. "I assume you stole it from York?"

Jack nodded. "Aye."

Will's eyes blazed. "Good, although it doesn't compensate for everything he put us through."

Jack mimed stunned surprise. "Why Will, I'm shocked. What would dear Elizabeth think?"

"She'd agree," Will said firmly.

Jack's smoky eyes regarded him thoughtfully. "Y'know, I do believe you're right. The wench would almost make a better pirate than you I think."

"Watch yourself," Will warned, scowling. "Elizabeth is a lady."

Jack snorted. "An accident of birth. She'd be better off as a pirate."

Jack could see Will's fingers flexing as he deliberately stopped himself from reaching for his blade.

"That's a lad," the pirate said approvingly, and then couldn't resist adding, "Looks like you've finally learned you can't beat me."

Johnny snickered. "I seem to recall you gettin' beat a few times back on the _Diarmid_."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Would you like to try me now, Johnny?"

Johnny raised his hands. "Not me, mate. You were always better than me."

Robert was eyeing his brother speculatively and spoke up. "Would you like to try your hand against me, Jack? I have never had the chance to fight you before."

Jack gave a sweeping bow. "I'd be honored to cross swords with you, milord."

"And I want my turn at you after Robert," Will said, eyeing the pirate with hostility. "No one speaks of Elizabeth that way."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Preserve me from the love-besotted young. Are you plannin' on challengin' everyone who you think's slighting her?"

"No, just dissolute pirates whom I think are slighting her," Will said with a half-smile.

Jack looked askance at him. "Well, at least your sense of humor seems to have improved slightly."

"Come on, little brother," Robert prodded, "stop trying to delay. Less talk, more fighting."

Jack arched an eyebrow. "As you wish, your lordship. What do I get when I beat you?"

Robert grinned. "Pride goeth before the fall, Jack."

"I don't believe in the Bible," Jack replied, drawing his sword from his scabbard.

"Heathen," Robert said playfully, shaking his head.

Jack balanced his sword by the hilt on one finger and grinned at Robert. "I don't like their 

gods either. Too many curses."

Robert unsheathed his own sword and pointed it at Jack. "Let's see how good you really are."


	12. Chapter 12

Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 12- In which everyone says goodbye and Jack and Will head back to the Caribbean

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.

A/N: Well this is it, the end! Sorry it ends kind of abruptly, but I saw Return of the King and now I just want to write Lord of the Rings. My Celebrimbor muse went and kicked Jack right out of my head. Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed. I love you all and hope you have a great holiday season. And if any of you lurkers want to drop a line letting me know you read it, feel free! 

            The fights between Jack, Robert, and Will kept them amused for the rest of the trip to meet up with the merchant galley, with Jack beating Robert three out of four times. Jack and Will, though, were evenly matched, and each won an equal number of times, so that when they docked with the merchant ship they were still arguing as to who had the superior sword skills.

            Once everything was in order, Jack prepared to board the merchant ship, pausing to take in his three companions.

            "I had better be seein' all of you again," Jack ordered sternly.

            "You will," Robert assured him, giving Jack a quick hug despite the pirate's protest. "I will give Mother and Father your goodbyes."

            "Thanks, mate." Jack hesitated. "Tell them it's nothin' personal, would ye? I have my own life and it's not in England."

            Robert nodded and stepped back so Johnny could clasp Jack's arm.

            "I might see you some time again, you old rogue," Johnny promised with a grin. "Have to go an' visit the famed _Black Pearl_."

            Jack nodded proudly. "Aye, she's a fine ship. Nothin' like her in the world."

            Will was watching the pirate give his farewells, and when Jack turned to him he shook his head. "I'm going back with you, Jack."

            Jack looked puzzled. "But you're not due to leave for another week. What about learnin' all the fancy new weapons techniques?"

            "I learned enough," Will said hurriedly. "Besides, I've had enough of England to last me a while."

            Jack grinned happily. He was glad to have someone to keep him company on the trip home and few were better than Will whom he could tease and bait to his heart's content. He might go a little easy on the lad this time, though, but only because Will had helped him escape.

            "Goodbye, then, Will," Robert said, gripping his arm. "I am glad I met you, and I will come visit you and your wife."

            "I'd like that," Will said, smiling and returning the gesture.

            "Back to the Caribbean it is then," Jack said, slinging a companionable arm around the blacksmith's shoulders. "I'll have some good tales to tell the crew on the Pearl."

            "Much exaggerated, I'm sure," Will said, looking affectionately at the pirate. "Are you going to tell them you escaped from England by roping sea turtles?"

            "Nay, I've already used that one," Jack said thoughtfully.

            He brightened as an idea came to him. "It'll be whales this time, with ropes made from seaweed."

            "That's very credible," Will said with a straight face as they jumped from the schooner's deck to that of the merchant ship. "I'm sure everyone will believe you."

            Jack winked. "They won't know whether to believe it or not, mate, and that's the point."

            Will shook his head. "You are a very odd man, Jack Sparrow."

            Jack nodded, unperturbed, and the two of them watched as the merchant ship was disengaged from the schooner and began to move away.

            "I'll be seein' you, Jack," Johnny called over to the pirate. "Try to avoid the noose 'till then."

            "Like the plague," Jack promised.

            "Try to keep him out of trouble, young William," Johnny added, "if that's even possible."

            Jack hmphed indignantly. "As if I'm not capable of takin' care of meself. I'm goin' to be the one gettin' him out of trouble."

            Johnny grinned. "After you dragged him into it I'm sure."

            He added something to that, but by then the two ships were too far away from each other, so Jack just waved vigorously at his brother and Johnny until he couldn't see them anymore.

            Will exhaled and sat down in a cross-legged position on one of the coils of rope. "Well, that was certainly an adventure. I can't believe you managed to make it out of that one alive."

            "And, yes, I know you're Captain Jack Sparrow," he said hastily, seeing Jack about to open his mouth.

            Jack grinned. "I picked up a nice bonus from it, too." He patted the lump in his pocket.

            "I'm sure York is furious that he lost it," Will said, having a pleasant time picturing the outrage of the duke.

            "No doubt," Jack said gleefully. "I should send him a letter askin' if he wants to buy it back."

            "That might be a little too provocative," Will said cautioningly. "After all, you don't want him hunting you down with all the considerable resources he has at his command."

            Jack waved a hand dismissively. "I'm not worried about that, mate."

            Will looked annoyed. "Be serious, Jack. This is not a game. He could pose a definite threat if he decides to actively pursue you."

            Jack spun around, flinging his arms wide. "But it is a game, life's a game. You just have to know how to play it."

            Will raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And I suppose you know how?"

            Jack winked conspiratorially and leaned closer to the blacksmith. "Of course, lad. It's all in how you watch and listen. Everything tells you somethin'. It's taken me time and some scrapes and bruises, but I've learned."

            Will had to admit that Jack could be very canny and perceptive at times. When he's not drunk, the blacksmith thought with a touch of exasperation. He sent a glare over at the pirate who had somehow managed to procure a bottle of rum and was happily pouring it down his throat. Jack must have felt the eyes on him, for he turned with a smile and offered the bottle to Will who made a face and declined. Jack shrugged.

            "Your loss, mate. Means more for me."

            The two sat in silence for a few minutes, letting themselves be lulled by the motions of the ship and the creak and groan of the rigging. Jack looked over at Will who had his eyes closed and his face tilted towards the sun. A mischeivious idea came into his head and he grinned wickedly.

            "Say, Will," he remarked casually, "how has your bonny lass been?"

            Will opened his eyes suspiciously. "She is well."

            Stroking his moustache, Jack said, "Aye, I'm sure you're eager to fall into your angel's embrace, with her lips as sweet as honey."

            Will looked downright mistrustful now. "What are you talking about, Jack?"

            Jack grinned. "Oh, just reminiscing on her skin as soft as down, the blush of rose in her cheeks, how the sweet music of her voice puts the very choirs of heaven to shame."

            Jack could see Will's mind racing furiously and the sudden blossoming of red in his cheeks let the pirate know the lad had finally caught on.

            "Y-you!" Will was nearly incoherent with rage. "You read my letters!"

            By this time Jack couldn't control himself and he was guffawing loudly, smacking the deck with the palm of his hand.

            "Your face, Will," he gasped. "Heh, it's a picture."

            Jack looked up to see Will advancing on him like a very feral predator and he suddenly decided it would be best to take himself elsewhere. Jumping to his feet, he took off to the opposite end of the ship while an enraged Will gave chase.

            "You had best hope I don't catch you, Jack Sparrow!" Will threatened. "Then we'll see who's the eunuch!"

            Jack merely laughed and shot up the rigging, daring the blacksmith to follow him. It was good to be a pirate.

_Finis_.


End file.
